Card the Moon
by jade-fae
Summary: It has been said that dogs have owners, but cats have servants; well, this cat has a Sailor Scout. Destiny has a sense of humor as a ten thousand year old grudge comes to Hogwarts, and that ain't all. Third year is going to be busy for Harry Potter, if the Youma don't get him, those weird magic spirits that turn into cards just might. Oh Luna... no, the other Luna.
1. Chapter 1

Card the Moon

Chapter 01 – There was a cat

…

Serendipity is a strange thing (and hard to spell). How high must a power be to decide what is or is not fated. Do we mere humans truly have a will of our own or are we just pawns in the games of greater beings (or super powered jerks with over inflated opinions of themselves)?

Perhaps, one could argue, such should be determined by the ability to enforce said fate. A scheme begun ten thousand years ago that stumbles at the finish line by going off in a completely different direction; was it fated. Was the driver simply drunk at the wheel?

You be the judge.

…

There was a cat, she saw a rat.  
She saw the rat; she saw, that cat.  
So she, the cat, attacked the rat.  
The rat went scat, goddamn that rat.  
Scurrying, scampering went the rat;  
did she lose sight; no not this cat.  
Disgusting, dreadful, horrible rat;  
this she thought; yes, she, the cat.

"OY! Leave im alone!"

Human! Why protect the rat?  
Let me at, so thought the cat.  
Away, away, away you cat.  
You cannot have, can't have my rat.  
Too big, too big, too big to fight;  
perhaps she should just stick to mice.

Off she went in angry spat;  
off she went, yes she, the cat.  
Not content to leave at that,  
a human came to taunt the cat.  
But no, not taunt, no thing like that;  
but gods, that hair, could use a hat.

"Oh my. Aren't you just precious!"

Why yes, she was, she was at that;  
precious she was, this lovely cat.  
Come then human with hair for hat,  
raise thy hand, yes, give a pat.

"Now what's this bandage here for?"

The peel away was painful, which few know is entirely by design; her mind clawing free of the dismal cloud of instinct and bad poetry back to the forefront as her crescent moon was revealed.

"Oh, my goodness!"

Goodness, yes. It felt good to be herself again. She was still a little foggy, but she was her once again, and she was on a mission. She remembered.

Oh! She remembered this too. Oh yeah, right there.

"I guess we like that then?"

Like was not the word. Love! Love was the word, and barring actually saying the word, she was certain she managed to express the sentiment.

"Hmm, he won't like it. Well, too bad, he'll just have to get over it. If he can have a pet, so can I."

She was fully compliant when the girl picked her up and carried her to the counter. "I'd like this one please."

"As you will miss. Gotta warn ya though, she's quite the escape artist."

Naturally, she had a mission, and no one was going to keep her from that. Now, if she could just stop purring for a few seconds and remember what it was, she'd be golden.

…

"I can't believe you, after what that brute did to Scabbers."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friends overexaggerating. "Honestly Ron, Scabbers is practically as big as she is," even if the majority of his mass was centered in the belly region, "I'm sure he'll be fine."

Ron didn't think so and stowed the vermin in his pocket when he caught the black feline eyeing the rodent in poor health.

"So uh—what do you call it?" asked Harry.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said, giving her dark-haired friend a good look.

"Uh—Blacky?"

"Harry!"

"No, that's my name."

The bushy haired girl shook her head, "Luna!"

"That was my next guess." She didn't believe that for a second, but his grin was so absolutely unrepentant, she saw no reason to say so. You can't shame the shameless.

"So, where to next?"

Harry'd done his shopping already and Ron's mum was picking up his things. Hermione had reserved her pet purchase for last so there was only one place left to go.

"Ice cream!"

She'd always been fascinated by sweet treats; probably on account of how rarely she got them. Her parents being dentists had certain ideas about such things, and she being their studious obedient daughter had always obeyed.

No, really.

"Is everyone enjoying their ice cream?"

A round of nods and generic positive sounds came in reply; the owner of the ice cream shop smiled and moved on. Harry watched him go with a slightly puzzled look.

"What's wrong Harry?"

"Not sure. He just seemed, off, somehow."

He would be the one to notice. He'd already told them how much time he'd spent at the ice cream shop doing his homework. Ron had been jealous. Hermione had just been glad he was doing his homework.

"Looks like 'the cat' thinks so too," said Ron sourly.

Luna peered over the table, following the proprietor with her eyes as he went from table to table. "What's the matter Luna?" she asked, as though she expected her to tell. Silly idea, talking cat.

"Probably mad you didn't get her an ice cream."

"Oh, don't be stupid Ron. Cat's don't eat ice cream."

"Mrow?"

The boys snickered when her cat looked at her with big expectant eyes.

"No Luna. Ice cream is not for kitties."

"Mrrrrow?"

"Oh! Don't do that." The big soulful eyes were already testing her resolution, but the waterworks; that was just plain unfair. "Oh! You—really shouldn't, but… I suppose—maybe…"

"Mrrrow."

Well—darn it!

…

"Goodnight Hermione."

"Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Hermione—goodnight ice cream kitty."

"Grr, goodnight Ronald."

"Meow."

"Honestly, that boy," she grumbled, stomping into her room.

"Mrow."

"No, I suppose he isn't always like that. Just on days ending in Y."

With a dignified harrumph, she put him out of her mind. Pulling a clean sheet of parchment and a quill, she began scribbling a rough schedule for the year. She'd have to redo it when she had her class schedule, but it never hurt to have an idea.

"Mrow?"

"Huh? Oh no, just working on my study schedule."

"Mrow."

Hermione giggled at her cat as she perused her scribblings like she could actually read it.

"What do you think?"

"Mrow!" Tuesday needed work, the way she was pawing at it.

"I can see why Harry does this. It's fun." Her dark-haired friend being somewhat notorious for talking to his owl like she could really understand him.

Sigh, "I wish you really could talk."

Her cat looked up from the parchment and stared at her with eyes more intelligent than any normal cat had a right to be. "Would that help?"

(Dramatic pause) Time for the hamster to get back on the wheel.

"Meep!"


	2. Chapter 2

Card the Moon

Chapter 2 – I am Sailor Moon

…

"Close your mouth dear, you look foolish."

Her mouth closed with an audible click that only just spared her tongue. She didn't—she couldn't—the cat, she just—just… "Am I dreaming?"

"No dear, you're not dreaming," the cat said. "I am sitting here. I am speaking to you. And you are gaping again, close your mouth dear."

She did as told, despite her jaw's insistence otherwise; mouthy thing. It did seem silly when she thought about it; if owls could deliver the mail why shouldn't cats talk. Nothing to gape at. She'd seen rats doing backflips just that afternoon. Talking cat; nothing to gape at.

… oh who was she kidding, "Where did you come from?"

"That's a bit complicated," the feline hedged. "I'll try my best to explain, later. Right now, I need you to come with me."

"With you? Where?"

"The ice cream shop."

The alley was empty as the two sneakily snuck onto the street and began a hurried trot to the ice cream shop.

"I really don't think he's still open," said Hermione.

"We're not going as patrons."

"What do you mean?"

"Your friend, Harry. He was right about that man."

"Florean? What was wrong with him?"

"He wasn't what he appeared to be."

The ice cream parlor in the dark had an oddly ominous feeling to it, or perhaps it was just the fear of the unknown tainting her perception. The windows were dark; no sight of anyone inside. Naturally, the door was locked.

"We need to get inside."

Hesitantly, Hermione performed her magic. She didn't fear the trace catching her in such a highly magical place like Diagon Alley; but no amount of magic could hide her from her own conscience. It was even worse when they slipped inside. Breaking and entering was a very serious crime and her talking cat had yet to tell her what they were doing or why.

"We shouldn't be in here," she whispered.

Her cat didn't seem to notice, "Do you hear that?"

It was hard to hear anything over her frantically beating heart, but she could just make out a sound that could have been someone talking.

Struggling to keep her heart in her chest, the two crept into the back; following the sound through several halls they arrived at the source. His back was to them, but they could tell it was Florean, or at least something that looked like him.

He was speaking to a hazy image of what could have been a blonde man; the resolution wasn't good and the dark just made it that much worse. Hearing him was also a challenge, the voice came through oddly garbled, a technical issue as they dropped the eaves.

"The crystal still needs some tuning, but all else proceeds as planned master Jadeite," said Florean.

"Very good," garbled the image. "We were lucky to discover this society of magic users. We will need to study them a while before we can properly begin infiltration. Operations are already being arranged."

"As you say master."

They continued talking but Hermione couldn't listen to more. Her father had once shown her Invasion of the body snatchers; she'd only been seven at the time. Her mother had not been pleased and she'd spent weeks sleeping with the female parent while the naughty male parent was banished to the couch.

She felt bad for what had happened to her father, as that one horrible experience was currently giving her context for her situation. The movie had terrified her, but now she was living it.

She stumbled back down the hall too scared to think. Everything she thought she knew was called into question. Was Luna one of them, sent to lure her there. She looked for the cat, but she'd disappeared. She was alone, alone with the body snatcher.

"Hermione."

Her hands flew to her mouth to hold in the panicked scream. The cat looked at her patiently.

"What?" she nearly wept.

"I found him."

"Found who?"

"The ice cream man."

He was hung in a closet in an odd sort of cocoon. It was cold, and his skin was blue, like he'd literally been put on ice.

"It is invasion of the body snatchers," Hermione squealed.

"Shhh!" Luna hissed, too late.

The soft tap of footsteps preceded him, and they fled back out into the parlor. Hermione was the first to the door and discovered it not merely locked, but sealed, as though door and jam had been fused into one.

"Oh no, oh no," she began to panic.

"Here, quick! Under the table."

She scrambled in next to the black feline just in time. A pair of glowing orbs rounded the corner, making her wish she had some big heavy chains to restrain the scream trying to leap up her throat.

"Hello," he called, his voice eerily calm. "Is someone there? A bit late for ice cream, isn't it?"

His soft steps echoed in the empty room as he moved between the tables. Her own strangled breaths felt too, too loud; her instinct to run at war with her instinct to hide leaving her frozen in place as the soft shoes passed her table and the sound receded.

Almost not believing her good fortune she allowed a slow, measured exhale. She then screamed, scrambling back when half the table was smashed, nearly on top of her head.

"Found you."

Vile, glowing, yellow eyes stared at her and she understood in that instant how a deer must feel with the lorry bearing down on it. Trapped. Inside that horrible gaze she was trapped, a rabbit in a snare. Defenseless, helpless, doomed.

Her life flashed in her vision when he stepped in, then something else flashed and he fell back, vile eyes hidden behind a mass of fury and black. "RUN!"

Free of the gaze, she needed no further prodding. There was no cause for stealth now, and the only thing keeping her from screaming as she ran was lacking the oxygen needed to do both simultaneously.

As inevitably happens when running indoors, she quickly ran out of space to run, finding herself once again, in a corner. She broke into tears even while looking around in a panic, seeking egress where there was none.

"Oh no, oh no," she wailed. "What do I do, what do I do?"

"Stop panicking for a start."

The black feline, looking no worse for wear, was scooped up and squeezed with unhealthy force.

"You're alive! You're okay!"

"Not if you keep squeezing me like that," the cat wheezed.

Realizing what she was doing, and why she shouldn't be, Hermione set the cat down, "Sorry," she said; the cat wobbled slightly. "I just thought you were—you were…" she couldn't even bring herself to say it.

"I haven't survived this long just to be taken out by some low-level grunt," the cat said proudly.

Hermione smiled, "I never would have thought you'd be able to stop him, and so easily."

"I didn't stop him."

"Huh?"

The cat stared at her deadly serious, "I didn't stop him. Distracted him, slowed him down maybe; mostly I just made him mad."

"Huh?" She was not having a good night. The only saving grace was Ron wasn't around to make fun of her incoherence.

"I'm not strong enough to beat him. That's why you're here."

"Me!" she squeaked.

"Yes, you."

"What am I supposed to do?" It's not like she was a trained magic user with twice the spell knowledge of most people her age.

"Use this." Jumping into the air the cat performed a perfect backflip. At the apex there was a brief flash, and something dropped into her waiting hand.

Why her hand was waiting seemed unclear, but that wasn't important. "What is this?" It looked like a very cute, very girly make-up compact. Like the one her mother had bought her during that very short stint when she was nine and trying to be like 'normal' girls.

"It's a transformation device. Hold it above your head and shout, Moon Power Make-up!"

Despite the severity of the situation, she could not help but stare. "Really?" she said, injecting as much disbelief as she could without turning it into sarcasm. "What kind of spell is that?"

"It's not a spell, it's an activation phrase."

"That's so much better." Oops, too much disbelief.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," a voice nearby sang, dripping with venomous intent.

"Hermione hurry!"

She still had objections, but the sudden rush of fear violently shoved them to a back corner to be dealt with later.

"Moon Power, Make-up!"

For the rest of her life she would remember that first transformation. You do though, don't you. It's hard to forget the rush of power, your body moving in perfectly choreographed dance without any input needed from the brain. It was also the first time in her life the mess on top of her head was anything like presentable. The twin tails wouldn't have been her first choice, but it wasn't bad.

She was only fortunate there wasn't a mirror nearby or she'd have realized she was as good as naked for at least half of the sequence. Magical girls were not meant to be modest.

"That was—I mean—" words continued to fail her, but she felt less embarrassed this time, and not just because the scariest thing she'd ever seen happened to walk in at that very moment.

Both of them stopped and stared. The pseudo-Florean barely resembled what he once was. Human proportions traded in for long sharp limbs, hard angles and a face so sallow and gaunt even a hag would have given it a pass.

"Well, what do we have here. A pretty little intruder. What do they call you?"

"Uh?" don't say Hermione.

"Psst! Sailor Moon," Luna whispered.

"Uh, Sailor Moon," she repeated.

The thing was not impressed, "Quite the daring outfit."

She blushed at the appraisal; it really was daring, which she was not.

"Too bad really, you stumbling on our operation. I can't afford a leak at this stage. Master Jadeite would not be pleased."

"You—you're going to kidnap people!" Hermione accused, stalling as she tried to think of what to do.

"A few, for now," it admitted shamelessly. "Their use is limited though. We'll feed on them for a while, then throw them away when we're done."

"You—FEED ON THEM!"

The vile thing smiled at her outrage. "That's all you humans are good for," it said, conjuring a ball of angry red energy in one hand.

Hermione barely noticed the imminent threat, fury and outrage sparking something not entirely her own, "I will not stand for this! I am Sailor Moon, champion of Love and Justice. Your wicked plans end here; in the name of the moon, I shall punish you!"

She said this all with a perfectly straight face, absolute sincerity. It only stopped him for about five seconds longer than it took to say it.

"Be that way then."

Hurling the angry ball, Sailor Moon yelped in mid dodge as the violent magic whizzed past her head.

"Stand still!"

No one in the history of ever had stood still when someone told them to and Hermione was not about to be the first. She leapt and dodged with the agility of a far more graceful person, earning the ire of the one trying to blast her.

"Stop hopping around like a damn rabbit and die already!"

She saw no good reason to do that. She also saw little other choice if she couldn't find some way to counterattack.

"How am I supposed to fight that. Why didn't this thing come with a weapon!"

"Your tiara," Luna shouted from around her feet.

"My what!"

"Your tiara. Throw it like a discus!"

"Are you kidding me!" Who designed this thing?

"Take the tiara and shout, Moon tiara magic!"

"You can't be…"

But before she could tell her cat what she couldn't be, the latest dodge slammed her hard into a wall, cutting off her retreat.

"Gotcha!" Surging forward the gaunt humanoid pinned her to it with its sharp, steely hands.

"NO! Get off me!" She struggled valiantly but the monsters grip was iron strong.

"No more running around for you little rabbit. Now you die."

She couldn't argue with that, so she didn't try. She did what females of any age had always done under such circumstances; when begging and pleading failed, cry.

Not since the last person to be called Sailor Moon had done it was this so effective.

"Gah! No! Stop that!"

The monster recoiled violently at the sonic assault that re-echoed with magical power shook him painfully to his very core.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!"

"Huh?" Her cry cut off when she heard her name and realized she was no longer pinned to the wall.

"Quick Hermione, the tiara."

"Right."

Lift, glow, twirl, and, "Moon, Tiara, Magic!"

The magical glowing disc sailed through the air, striking the cowering monster who vanished in a brilliant burst of power and shattering crystal. Score one for Sailor Moon.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said Luna in the aftermath of the battle.

"That wasn't—are you—ugh!"

"Are you alright?"

"No, no I am not," stamping a high-heeled shoe for emphasis. "I have questions. Lots of questions. And you're going to answer them."

The cat smiled, very Cheshire, "Alright. What would you like to know first?"

There was one thing that immediately came to mind, "Why is this skirt so short!"

Priorities.


	3. Chapter 3

Card the Moon

Chapter 03 – Long black train

…

Morning, a foul way to start any day; and never a day without one. They were particularly egregious when the night before had been too short.

Hermione lay buried in the down comforter, a hairy bush on her pillow the only indication of her location. She mumbled and groaned, external forces of the temporal sort warring with internal forces of the 'leave me the heck alone it's too damn early for this' sort.

"Hermione."

*Grumble, grumble*

"Hermione."

*Grumble, grumble, grumble*

"Heeermiiiioneeee!"

*Grumble, grumble, very uncomplimentary remark on your parentage, grumble*

"Hermione! The books!"

What? Books!

Throwing off the comforter she sat bolt upright, frantically scanning the room. Her brain was just properly booting up and realizing there were, in fact, no books, when a squirming black body wormed its way out from under the discarded comforter.

"Remind me not to stand so close next time," she said.

Hermione just groaned, "S'too early."

Burying her head between two pillows she vainly tried to ward off the new day who should damn well have known it is fashionable to be late, not early.

"Hermione."

"Go away."

But the incessant prodding would not go away. "Hermione. You do recall saying to get you up at six. It is now six thirty."

"Too late then," she insisted petulantly.

"Oh, for goodness sake. Get up! Up! Up! Up! Up!" she shouted, bouncing around the poor young witch till she found the ticklish spots.

"Gah! Not there."

"Oh hoooo!" with the evil eyes. "Take this!"

Squealing under the merciless assault, Hermione rolled around trying to escape, only to roll right off the bed, "Gah!"

"There, was that so hard?"

Hermione scowled up at the grinning feline; Cheshire, definitely Cheshire, "You're mean."

"Love is tough," she said sagely. "Now stop lying on the floor."

Feeling obstinate, she considered staying there, but it was cold which accelerated the urgency of certain biological processes that would not be ignored, no matter how obstinate she felt. Once that was done there was little point trying to slip back under the covers.

Even Luna had abandoned the bed and was sitting on her trunk next to the clothes she'd set out the previous night before running off to be nearly killed.

"It's hard to believe; last night I mean. Feels like a bad dream," she said as she changed into her day clothes.

"Just be glad he wasn't at full strength, or we wouldn't be having this conversation now."

Hermione paused mid button, "Are they really that dangerous?"

"Enough to wipe out all sentient life in the galaxy. Ten thousand years of starvation seems to have brought them down a bit."

"Ten thousand years," in matters of time, that was a lot of zeros. The entire extent of human existence, give or take a Tuesday.

"I understand it's a lot to take in."

"Learning I was a witch was a lot to take in," ten thousand years and galaxy devouring armies was on a slightly different level.

"Their way into this world must still be small or they're being exceptionally careful. Either way, we need to be vigilant."

"But how are we going to do that all the way in Scotland?" She wasn't sure she was ready to give up Hogwarts for—whatever you wanted to call this.

"It's as good a place as any," she said. "I have no idea where they've infiltrated yet. Last night was just time and place. I'll need to make contact with my companion soon. He went—elsewhere, to look for the other sailor scouts."

"Elsewhere?" That wasn't suspicious at all, oh no.

Luna looked a bit ashamed admitting, "I can't remember. That bandage over my moon messed up my head. I'm still trying to sort things out."

"Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine. But you'll be late if you don't hurry. Breakfast child. Come on."

Breakfast with the Weasley's was always an event, or so she assumed; her one past experience leading her to believe it was probably the case all the time. Harry seemed to agree, and he'd spent several days with them before.

After breakfast is when things got really hectic though. For all the time they'd had to prepare, when it came time to go, no one was ready. Percy couldn't find his head boy badge. Ron had somehow misplaced Scabbers. The twins had no idea where Percy's badge was, honestly; and Ginny—well, she was there and making a fuss too.

With much yelling, prodding, and threats of punishment they were all piled into the ministry cars; then unpiled, carted, and piled again, into the Hogwarts express.

"How does your family ever get anywhere on time?"

"You shoulda seen us when Bill and Charlie were still at home."

They searched up and down the train for an empty compartment but the best they could find was one with a tired looking man asleep in it. A common enough sight, sleeping dirty vagrant, on any train that was not the Hogwarts express.

"Professor R. J. Lupin."

"How'd you know?"

"It's on his case."

It was a little uncomfortable talking with the stranger in their compartment, but it didn't take long to figure out his breathing didn't make him any less dead to the world.

Harry relayed what Mr. Weasley had told him about Sirius Black, the mere mention of which greatly agitated Scabbers, though Ron felt the need to blame it on Luna.

She'd been sitting on the fence, telling her two friends about her new responsibility but the reminder of Ron's disposition towards her new companion clinched it. This was just a secret she would need to keep. It was for the best.

The conversation drifted for a while from summer to the new classes they'd all be taking. Somewhere along the way Luna abandoned her lap for Harry's where she was happily soaking up his attention when the trolley came by.

They were about an hour out from Hogwarts when the train came to a stop.

"What's going on? Why did we stop?"

The loss of the lights gave no answers, and concern began growing into fear as the seconds ticked by. Luna sat still as a gargoyle on Harry's lap, the hairs on her back rising when something outside grasped the door handle.

Fear blossomed into oppressive panic when the door opened, and the dark cloak entered the compartment. The things presence turned her blood to ice water and she thoughtlessly fumbled for the compact in her pocket, secret be damned.

It didn't seem to notice her in more than passing, turning to look at Luna—no, at Harry. It was Harry the horrible thing approached, indifferent to the warning yowl from the feline.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement, then a brilliant light filled the compartment; the creature fled, and Harry collapsed to the floor.

"Harry!"

The train was moving again by the time he came to, looking pale and shaky. "Harry! Harry, are you alright?"

"Who screamed?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

Which was somewhat concerning since she hadn't heard anyone scream. Further inquiry on the topic was postponed in favor of chocolate, compliments of their new teacher who left a moment later to speak with the conductor.

"What was that thing?"

"I know what that was," said Ron, freckles popping against sheet pale skin. "That was a dementor. They guard the wizard prison Azkaban."

"They must have been looking for Sirius Black," Hermione surmised. "Harry, are you sure you're alright."

"I'm fine," he lied. She could tell he was lying; he wasn't really trying.

"Mrow," Luna sensed it as well and rubbed against him purring loudly.

"Don't feel bad Harry. Dad had to go out to Azkaban once, said it was awful. He came back all pale and shaky."

"Did he pass out too?"

Apparently not, which did nothing to improve Harry's mood. He was only moderately better by the time they reached the station. Hermione'd only a moment alone with Luna while changing but the feline assured her, despite the similarities, the dementor was not a Youma.

She took very little comfort in that knowledge.

The carriage ride to the castle was cold and quiet and once again, Luna was staring. It was a little unnerving; she couldn't see what she was staring at. There was nothing in front of the carriage.

Their arrival at the doors of Hogwarts could not come quickly enough, yet at the same time another five minutes wouldn't have hurt, since who should be waiting for them but their least favorite person.

"Potter."

Draco Malfoy.

The sudden appearance of Professor McGonagall was a great relief till she took Harry off to the hospital wing after shooing the rest of them into the great hall.

"Is it always this exciting around here?" Luna wondered quietly.

Thinking back on her last two years of magical schooling, "Yeah, pretty much."


	4. Chapter 4

Card the Moon

Chapter 04 – Bedtime story

…

Sitting in a dark corner of the Gryffindor common room Hermione did not appear to be doing anything; while at the same time not doing nothing either. Puttering was not just a fun word. It was a thing her charge was making a good effort at.

"Were you planning to sit there all night twiddling your thumbs."

Hermione looked up, startled. Apparently, she'd been very focused on her puttering. Her eyes scoured the room before relaxing.

"The last went up to bed about ten minutes ago," said Luna.

"Did they?" she said distractedly.

"Maybe you ought to join them." She looked about half asleep.

She shook her head, "Wanna make sure they're asleep first."

They, being her roommates Parvati and Lavender. Luna sensed she didn't much care for them, though she couldn't make out why. They seemed perfectly nice girls; personable, a bit chatty, good at petting, and the ear scratches; oh, the ear scratches.

Come to think on it, that Harry boy was pretty good at ear scratches too. "Is he usually so moody, your friend Harry?"

"Sometimes," she said. "He bottles it up a lot. Doesn't like to tell people what's bothering him. I think he just doesn't want to be a burden on anyone."

"Really?"

"It's those damn relatives of his. The things they've done to him—terrible."

Luna wasn't sure what to think of that and Hermione didn't offer anymore. Time for such later if need be. "Has your friend Ronald had that rat long?"

"Scabbers? Well, yes, as long as I've known him. You don't think he's…"

Luna could have laughed, "A youma?" the face was simply priceless. "No Hermione, it's not a youma. I'm not sure what it is."

"It isn't just a rat? Are you sure?"

"Quite. It's no youma but it has too much magic to be a garden variety rat."

"Maybe it's just a magic rat. I saw some in the pet store doing somersaults and backflips."

Parlor tricks, "Maybe," but probably not. "I suppose it's not important. Hermione. Hermione?"

"Wha! What?"

The cat frowned at the girl nodding off and shook her head. "Up to bed with you."

She protested weakly but, failing her will save, she was shooed up to her dorm by the mothering cat. Her roommates were fast asleep, Lavender snoring lightly which drew a sigh from the bushy haired girl.

"Need to learn a silencing spell," she grumbled quietly.

"I hope you mean something to make her quiet, not 'The Silence'," said Luna, perching herself on the dresser as Hermione prepared for bed.

"What's 'The Silence'? It sounds important and I've never heard of it before."

"'The Silence' is one of the anti-forces. Pure destruction. Sailor Saturn wielded its power, poor thing."

"Why poor thing?"

"Every time she used it, she died."

"Oh!"

"Yes. Saturn was always a last resort. We never had a chance to use her against Beryl in the war. If we had, things would have gone very differently I dare say."

"There's a lot in that statement I don't understand," Hermione frowned. "Who is Beryl? What war? Why didn't you get to use her? And how did things go?"

Luna listened to her inquisitor, smiling ruefully. "Would you like me to take those in any particular order?"

Her frowned deepened, adding a bit of pout, "Don't be a smarty cat."

Luna chuckled; Hermione harrumphed. "All in good time. If I tried telling you everything all at once, you'd forget most of it and I'd have to tell it to you again."

"So, tell me what I 'need' to know."

"I will—when you need to know it."

She wasn't trying to be difficult, despite what the girls overdramatic sighing implied. But how did you explain the intricate minutia and political maneuvering of a prolonged military campaign without taking more time than the war itself?

"How about a bedtime story?" said Luna, hopping from the dresser to the bed.

"Aren't I a little old for bedtime stories?" said the very grown up and not at all childish young woman.

"No," said the cat succinctly, patting the pillow meaningfully.

Again sighing overdramatically, she crawled under the covers, propped her head on her pillow and looked at Luna expectantly. Luna simply stared back.

"Well, go on," Hermione insisted.

"Oh, now you want to hear the story."

"Lunaaaa," the very grown up girl whined.

Smiling at her little victory, "Once upon a time…"

"Really," she broke in.

"Don't interrupt," said the cat, bopping the sassy girl on the nose. "Now, where was I? Oh yes. Once upon a time…"

…

Ten thousand years ago, there was in the galaxy a magnificent kingdom, ruled by a beautiful, benevolent queen. Serenity was her name, the shining light of her people, all eight planets of them.

In the entirety of her reign, a golden age called the Silver millennium, there was only one planet in the solar system that had not submitted to her rule; Earth.

The people of Earth were powerful and proud and while not outright hostile, they did not trust Serenity or any of her subordinates. For many years she sought unity, but again and again she was rebuffed.

Then, a most joyous event. The queen became pregnant and gave birth. Her daughter, also called Serenity, was the light of her mothers' life, and, that which would bring about her greatest sorrow.

The princess grew, gentle and sweet, adored by the court and admired by all who saw her. One of those admirers was a prince of Earth, Endymion.

Captivated by her grace and beauty, he resolved to have her. This was all well in her mind for she was quite smitten with him as well. The problem came in the form of his intended, an Earth princess called Beryl.

She too was madly in love with her prince though he had no strong feelings for her. But they were intended, promised. No matter how much he desired to be with princess Serenity, his future was Beryl.

Unable to stand the thought of not being with the girl he loved, he fled the Earth, leaving his intended, Beryl, behind. Unable to accept the man she loved did not love her back, she went mad. Insisting the other princess had kidnapped her prince, she demanded his return.

When he did not, she was enraged. Unable to muster an army strong enough to take him back by force, she sought allies. Making a pact with a vile entity called Metallia, she set a darkness upon the Earth, feeding her people to that darkness and from that birthing the Youma.

Now, she decided, it was not enough to retake her prince. She would end the Silver millennium. She would take everything from the hated Serenity; her prince, her dynasty, and then, her life.

The outer planets were the first to fall. Their duty to defend against threats coming from outside the system left them vulnerable to attacks from within. One by one the others followed, till all the remaining forces had fled to Luna Terra, the queen's planetoid. The moon.

The fighting was fierce; their homes destroyed, and people gone, the sailor scouts fought without restraint. It was not enough. Bit by bit their power was whittled away.

The princess was inconsolable, feeling solely responsible. Hope seemed lost.

The final attack was catastrophic. Nearly everyone died, the prince and the princess included. This proved too much for Queen Serenity. In a moment of glorious retribution, she stepped onto the field of battle and destroyed a full half of Beryl's forces. The rest, along with Beryl and her generals, were sealed away into a subspace realm, the Negaverse.

With little power left, and her life swiftly fading, Serenity cast one more spell, sending the souls of her daughter, her court, and her prince, far into the future to be reborn on Earth, the only planet still able to sustain life.

It was her hope that they would find each other, and the love and peace they had been denied in that life.

…

"I was there when she did it, her final moments. Find them, she said to me. Guide them. Finish the fight that I could not."

Hermione stared, mouth agape, "That—that is quite a story."

Luna nodded.

"Am—am I, the princess?"

Not expecting the question, Luna stifled a snort to keep from laughing outright. "Sorry. No child, you aren't. At least I don't think so."

"You mean you don't know?"

"She was never clear on how I was supposed to find them. Wasn't really time."

"No, I suppose not."

The girl was quiet a time, thoughtfully so which was different than if she'd simply gone to sleep. It was heavier, anticipation being the weighty thing it is.

"Luna?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to help, but—I don't know how. Please, tell me how."

The cat smiled, moving to curl around her charge's great bushy head. "Sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. We'll figure it out then."

"M'okay," Hermione said woozily as slumber snuck up and quietly took her.

Luna quickly followed, nodding off while her tail gently stroked the cheek of her champion of love and justice.


	5. Chapter 5

Card the moon

Chapter 05 – All this time on my hands

…

The Ravenclaw table was all atwitter the next morning. Something had happened, but no one seemed entirely certain what it was. Theories abounded; speculation ran wild; it'll do that you know, just give it an inch, and the key to the liquor cabinet.

"I was just getting ready for bed."

"Flew right through the walls; thought it was a ghost."

"Nearly fell out of the shower."

"Who do you think did it?"

Padding under the table, unseen and silent, Luna absorbed the unfiltered avalanche of information. Point one; something had happened late last night that spooked most of the blue and silver house. Point two; no one, at least no one talking, knew exactly what it was or who did it. Which lead neatly to point three; rampant speculation on who did it.

This was the primary topic of conversation, the who dunnit. There seemed far less interest in the what of the matter than figuring out who was responsible. Perhaps they just wanted to know who to blame; seemed likely.

The black moon cat wove between feet and ducked through a pair of legs spread scandalously wide. The floor between tables was less crowded and she passed a couple other cats making the rounds before finding her girl and hopping onto the bench next to her.

"What's she doing here?"

"Oh honestly Ron! Are you going to do this every time you see her?"

"Maybe."

She was a point of contention; she found it amusing. Even more amusing was the fact he was getting all bent out of shape over a rat.

"You don't even have Scabbers with you."

"I'll be she can still smell him on me."

She could.

"Maybe she'll eat you then."

Luna chortled inwardly; giving the ginger a meaningful look, just for giggles. With her presence noted she rubbed her head against her girl and began to purr. It was an innocuous action to any observer, just a happy cat begging for attention.

In actuality it was a signal they'd worked out early that morning. All is well it meant; no danger, I haven't found anything, now pet me. That was the appropriate response, the petting. It took her a moment to realize the pets weren't coming and half a moment to figure out why.

Without her friend distracting her, the bushy haired girl had her nose deep into a book even while she absently picked at her breakfast.

It was a bit much to Luna's thinking. It was good to be studious, but you could take it too far, like ignoring your food. In a crowded room there wasn't much she could do about it, so she shelved it for later, ducking under the table and popping up next to her girl's other friend.

"Meow."

"Huh? Oh, hello Luna."

This one worried her a little; after the incident with the dementor especially. He still seemed quite gloomy and it wasn't hard to see why. Some greasy looking boy at the green table was putting on a production which, after a brief analysis, appeared to be his interpretation of the dementor incident.

Apart from being a terribly hammy actor, Luna could safely say the interpretation had misinterpreted a great deal. She also had a sneaking suspicion that was the intent.

"Mrow."

Rubbing herself against Harry forced him to take his attention away from the person upsetting him and direct it to a more deserving recipient.

"What's the matter Luna? Can't get Hermione's attention?"

_ That was the matter, how receptive you are. Now scratch behind the ear—oh yeah, right there._

"Huh, what?" Boy and cat chuckled when Hermione looked up from her book and found Luna on the wrong side of the table. "When did you get over there?"

"It's cuz you were ignoring her," said Harry, smiling till a loud noise from the green table caused him to frown again.

"Is he still at it?" her girl said, glancing over her shoulder sourly. "He was hardly so brave when the dementors were on the train I heard."

"He didn't faint though," said Harry morosely.

"Oh Harry."

"Mrow."

Before the boy could truly begin moping, one of the teachers, the stern old one she understood was McGonagall, came around with everyone's schedule. "Ms. Granger, a moment if you will."

Luna stared after the woman and her trailing girl. She wasn't a youma, at this distance it would be impossible to miss. She calmly sat, half on Harry's lap till her girl came back with a grin so big it looked like it might break her face.

"What are you so happy about?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. "Nothing at all."

A more blatant lie she had never heard; the ginger wasn't buying it either.

"Uh huh. Looks like McGonagall made a mistake on your schedule," he said, as he'd looked it over while she was away. "You got too many classes. See, here; our first class is divinations and it says you're taking ancient runes too, but they're at the same time."

"That's not for you to worry about. Professor McGonagall has arranged things, now come on. Divinations is at the top of the North tower. We've never had class there before."

As a group her girl's whole cohort picked up, packed up and headed out. Luna followed them as far as the door then veered off in a different direction. She'd go to class another day, once everyone had settled in.

The castle was massive, a whole town in a single building. She needed to familiarize herself with the place; it's secrets and shortcuts. Hermione had mentioned how the stairs like to change and she'd seen the phenomenon herself. Learning the how, where, and why would be invaluable for navigating the vast highways and byways.

And good navigation could make all the difference in a life or death battle, though she may have been getting ahead of herself; putting the cart before the horse and expecting him to push.

Scotland was a long way from London, a long way from their only contact with the enemy so far. It seemed presumptuous to think there would be youma at Hogwarts.

But then again, it would be stupid to assume there weren't.

She'd lost contact with her counterpart—what's his name. Worse still, the bandage incident had messed with her memory so she was uncertain of a number of things she should have known quite clearly. All she knew for certain was her mission.

Find the scouts. Find the princess. Fight the enemy where he was to be found. Nice, simple, easy to remember, and thank the moon for that because she probably wouldn't have otherwise.

She found it extremely concerning, her loss of memory. She could think of no reason the covering of her mark would cause such a pronounced effect. Possible she had been injured beforehand and that was the reason; for the bandage, and for her memory. She didn't know and it was driving her crazy.

All she could do was focus on the task at hand; the here, the now, the suit of armor that felt as though it were watching her.

There was nothing noteworthy about it, nothing to distinguish it from all the others lining the hall, and yet; as she slowly strode past, she couldn't help but feel as though there were eyes on her.

With a whole hall of them and none of the others giving off that some watchful aura it was readily apparent something was off, but was it youma off? She made a mental note to investigate further then moved on. She wasn't fit to fight even a weak youma and hope to win, but if it was a youma it didn't appear to be an immediate threat.

She'd remember it; it, and the odd cabinet that rattled when she went near it, the peculiar portrait that told some of the filthiest poetry she'd ever heard, the locked room down in the dungeon with the mad giggling, and of course, the weird clown beneath the drain.

"What an absolute madhouse."

She was almost certain most of what she'd found was in no way related to the Negaverse, which was good; if no less disturbing. The others though; those would require Hermione's assistance to investigate further.

She returned to Gryffindor tower late that afternoon and went straight to the girls dormitory. Finding a bowl of cat food waiting, she gave it a sideways look but ultimately ate it.

Yet another thing they needed to talk about when she came back. It's not that she expected gourmet, but she would have to insist on some real food in the future. And cake; couldn't live without cake.

At least the accommodations left no complaint. Nice soft bedding, squashy pillow; a perfect place to nap. She was still napping (not sleeping which is totally different) when the roommates came in gabbling to one another.

They passed the bed giving her a pat and a scratch but once this was done, she noticed the distinct lack of bushy-haired girl. Moving down to the common room she found Harry, looking deep in thought, and Ron who scowled when he saw her and shielded something, she assumed was his rat.

No Hermione though.

"Looking for Hermione?" Harry guessed.

"Mrow."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna be waiting a while. She's in the library."

Ignoring the snide tone, she accepted the information and its relevance. Studious girl, library, long wait.

Seeing nothing else to be done, she climbed onto Harry's lap and demanded attention while glaring across at the ginger and his pet.

If she had to wait at least she'd be entertained.

Sometime later, well after her entertainment had wandered off to bed and she was beginning to grow concern, she appeared; staggering into the tower under an absurd load. She looked to be carrying a good half the books she'd brought to school.

"Mrow!"

"Huh! Oh, Luna. Were you waiting for me?"

The feline gave a quick look around before speaking in a low voice, "And growing very concerned. Where have you been?"

The girl flinched at the reprimand and motioned the cat into a corner that mostly shielded them from view. "I was studying. I've so many new classes this year."

"No more than your friends," Luna countered, but Hermione shook her head.

Retrieving the small charm from her blouse, she explained the time turner to the positively dumbstruck feline. "Your teacher, gave you a time travel device, so you could attend more classes."

"Yes."

The incredulity of her tone wasn't penetrating the girls bubble of bliss because she just kept smiling like it was the greatest thing since Christmas.

"I had no idea such things even existed; I never dreamed Professor McGonagall trusted me so much."

She shouldn't have, Luna thought. "Hermione listen to me. Time travel is not something to be trifled with."

"I know," she said, suddenly defensive. "Professor McGonagall explained the rules to me."

RULES! Was she really hearing what she thought she was hearing?

"It's alright, don't worry, Professor McGonagall trusts me, otherwise she wouldn't have given it to me."

Hermione seemed to think that assurance settled the matter; what it did in fact was cause Luna to question the good judgement of this professor.

_ Which reminds me, I need to check them out too._

"So, how was your day? Find anything?"

It irked her to let the matter slide, but there didn't appear to be any changing her mind for now. "Several things."

"Really?"

"I'm almost certain most of them aren't youma," she clarified. "There seem to be a great many strange—things inhabiting this castle. I'll want your help investigating a few I think might be though."

"Hmm, try and squeeze them between classes tomorrow. The loads a bit lighter then."

"Indeed," restrain biting remark. "So, how was your day. See anything strange—relatively speaking?"

"Actually," she said, growing suddenly excited. "Something strange did happen in care of magical creatures."

"Youma strange?" in front of an entire group?

"No. At least I don't think so. It happened to Harry, when he was riding Buckbeak."

"What is a Buckbeak?" sounded dangerous.

"Well, what happened was…"


	6. Chapter 6

Card the moon  
Chapter 06 – A rather blustery day

…

As shit days went, this one was pretty shit. Not the shittiest in his life, not by far; but that did not detract from the shitness. And let's just be clear, Harry Potter knew shit days. His life had been full of them. In some respects, his life had been one, just stretched out over thirteen odd years.

This had never felt more true than after meeting Sybil Trelawney. The things that made you wish you never got out of bed started and ended with Sybil Trelawney.

Even Professor McGonagall's assurances about the unlikeliness of his predicted demise had not entirely relieved his anxiety, and Ron's insistence was not helping. Lavender he could ignore, Ron was a whole other matter.

"Don't listen to him Harry. You heard Professor McGonagall."

He had, and he really wanted to believe her, honest. But, and it was a big but; Aunt Marge big, but; the Knight bus nearly ran him over on Privet Drive the night he saw the Grimm. And if not for Professor Lupin, that dementor might have…

No, that didn't bear thinking about, not now. It was plainly evident death was hovering close, more so than usual. He needed to be careful this year, no stupid chances. Easier said than done, with a crazed murderer after him and those foul things circling the castle.

He had to be careful, no tempting fate; especially since fate had been so generous as to give fair warning. It would have just been rude. No; careful, that was his new motto, careful.

He was still thinking this as they all trudged down to Hagrid's hut against a strong stiff breeze for their first care of magical creatures class. It was easy, thinking about being careful when the mad book with the teeth kept struggling despite the belt tied around it.

"You think this'll be the first magical creature he teaches?" asked Ron, having little more luck with his than Harry.

"We can only hope." Anything to keep from losing an arm to the angry literature.

"Good afternoon students," the big man bellowed excitedly.

The wind continued picking up as Hagrid explained how to manage the monster manual. He looked a bit disappointed no one had figured it out which was only exacerbated by Malfoy's need to rub it in. Git.

Would serve him right if the book took his arm off, or his head.

Crestfallen but still determined, the big man marched into the forest, returning a moment later with three of the strangest creatures Harry had ever seen.

"These are Hippogriff's. Handsome, ain't they."

With the initial shock aside, he could see why his overlarge friend would think so. There was something about the sleek coats and fine feathers. Harry had a penchant for flying things, and he couldn't deny there was an allure to the half eagle beasts.

"Now then, who wants to go first?"

But not that much.

The class as a whole took a giant step back, which Harry thought was a very good idea. But Hagrid was his friend; he wanted his first class to go well. His sense of loyalty warred with his desire not to tempt fate; she seemed the sort to call his bluff.

In the end, loyalty won our over caution; he, Ron and Hermione all stepped forward, though with more than an ounce of apprehension; three at least, maybe a whole pound between them.

"Right then, first thing ya gotta remember's, Hippogriff's is very proud creatures. Won't tolerate no disrespect. The man what insults a Hippogriff will not be doin so twice, if'n ya catch my meanin."

One look at those talons; yeah, they got his meaning.

"Harry, you first, let's try with Buckbeak here."

Harry stepped forward toward the gray coated hippogriff and stopped when he caught his eyes. "Thas it Harry, ya got his attention. Try not to blink, the don't trust ya if'n ya blink too much."

The two stared at each other but it was clear Buckbeak did it better and Harry had no qualms in acknowledging he was outclassed. "What ya need to do now Harry is bow to 'im, then wait and see if he bows back."

He didn't much care to expose his neck to that beak, or those talons, but when you thought about it, his neck wouldn't provide much less resistance than any other part of him. Comforting thought, right?

The wind blew chill across his neck, sending goosebumps waddling down the spine. Cold sweat collected in all the uncomfortable places and just when it seemed he'd need to retreat and Hagrid was instructing him to do such; his head dipped, leg bent, the hippogriff bowed.

Harry released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He'd attributed the light headedness to something else; honest mistake.

"Go on than Arry, stroke is beak."

With a healthy dose of caution; three drops, maybe four, he approached the avian equine and offered his hand. Buckbeak leaned into the attention without hesitation, greatly easing Harry's nerves.

"Good, good. I reckon he might let you ride him now."

_ Crazy man say what!_

Harry was all for flying, there was nothing like getting a hard bit a wood between your legs and just going for it. He wasn't so sure how he felt about a hippogriff between his legs.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Hagrid hoisted him up and gave the horse end a swat. Harry held on as tight as he dare and prayed this wasn't tempting fate, daring to fly by a method other than magical wood.

Take off was rough, the wind saw to that, fighting them for every inch. Buckbeak though, was no amateur on the wing and it wasn't long before the earth was vanishing beneath their feet.

High into the air the thrill of freedom he always felt when flying caught up with them. The exhilaration for a moment banished his anxiety and he whooped in excitement. Unfortunately, for fate this was just a step too far.

She could tolerate approaching a deadly magical creature; sharp beak and talons and fearsome, fearsome pride. She could even tolerate him mounting the beast, going for a fly. But when he started to enjoy it, well, that was just too much.

A blast of wind took them by surprise and Buckbeak floundered. Harry had a moment to know what it felt like to be in space; weightless, before gravity noticed he was breaking the rules and planted him firmly back on the bird horse.

Buckbeak screamed, panicked, tried to get the air back under his wings, but the wind was not through with them. It came at them again, a vicious swirling gale that lifted them straight up.

It was all Harry could do not to be separated from his mount, gripping him tighter than was strictly polite. The permeating sense of danger triggered a reflex and he pulled his wand. A bit useless he realized; what could he spell, the wind?

The situation brought home just how useless his magical education had been. He wasn't going to swish and flick his way out of this. How was turning a dormouse into a doorstop supposed to help him now?

He vowed, if he survived, he was going to take a far more serious interest in his education, particularly the bits that would keep him not dead.

As the wind twisted and turned, that 'if' felt exceptionally large. If the wind suddenly died, would Buckbeak be able to bring them to earth at less than terminal velocity. The situation seemed almost certain, certainly hopeless.

Then, all at once his perspective shifted, he felt rather than saw, and what he felt was a presence, eyes; tempestuous and old, watching him. He had no context for the sensation, nor for the name that appeared on his lips without his volition but spoken with thunderous command.

"WINDY!"

Something responded, struggled, resisted. It pressed against his will, but fear and desperation bolstered his mental resilience and he overcame. Battle won, the aftermath set in, and Harry clung for dear life as the earth rushed up to meet them.

They were as one mind, the horse bird and the wizard. Buckbeak threw his wings wide and flapped for all he was worth. Their meteoric descent became somewhat less but they were still coming in too fast and right at the rest of the class who ran and dove frantically as they zoomed through.

"Look out!"

They landed hard; skidding and skipping, Harry was thrown from the hippogriff; sailing, somersaulting and finally sliding across the hard-packed earth.

Watching from the heavens, the judges weighed his performance. Destiny allowed him a 08; Coincidence threw out a 0l; then flipped it over, blushing. Fate hemmed and hawed before yawning and lifting a 06.

"Aw, come on!"

"Harry, Harry! Are you alright?"

"She gave me a six," he grumbled.

"What? Harry are you alright? Did you hit your head?"

_Probably_. Felt like he'd hit everything else. "Where's Buckbeak?"

He really needn't have asked, once his glasses were back on he could see the hippogriff prancing about nervously, rearing whenever Hagrid tried to get near him. Still plugged into the same wavelength he could feel his fear. Feet on the ground the panic of plummeting still gripped him.

Aching and groaning he struggled to his feet and staggered toward Buckbeak. His full attention on Hagrid he never saw Harry till the boy latched onto his neck. He reared, lifting Harry off the ground but through sheer tenacity he held on.

"That's it Harry, hang on. Talk to 'im. Calm 'im down."

Harry didn't know how much words were going to help but he tried, clinging for dear life he spoke with surprising calm and gentleness. Surprising to him that he could even feel calm after such a ride.

Whether through words or something deeper he seemed to reach the hippogriff who stopped rearing and slowed his prancing to a timid clawing at the earth. Harry stroked the eagle head and whispered soothingly.

"It's alright. We're alright."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Hagrid approached and Buckbeak looked up penitently as the giant man stroked him.

"Well, that was quite some ride Arry."

"Yeah," he thought, "quite the ride."

…

Luna gaped at the tale she'd been told, "Are all your classes this exciting?"

"I actually found my Arithmancy class quite exciting," said Hermione. "Though no one almost died, but that doesn't mean I believe that nonsense from Professor Trelawney."

"Yes, well," definitely need to investigate that woman. "So, what happened then?"

"Hagrid ended class. Said the others were too riled up. Didn't want anyone getting hurt. He gave us twelve inches on Hippogriffs then told Ron to help Harry up to the hospital wing."

"You didn't go with them?"

"I was going to, but Harry insisted he was fine, and I had so much homework I needed to get started. I hope he's alright."

"He seemed a little dazed when I came down," and now she knew why. "His petting hand still worked; couldn't have been that bad."

"Oh, really?"

Her grin was perfectly unrepentant. Her memory may have looked like swiss cheese, but she still had her priorities in order, you couldn't say she didn't have that. "In any case; while I wouldn't call it a natural phenomenon, not by the sound of it; it also doesn't sound like youma activity."

"What would sound like youma activity, just so I know what to look for?"

"Probably benign things like sudden sluggishness or low energy. Youma feed on life energy. If a bunch of people show up staggering like zombies, that's probably a youma. It's unlikely they'd so blatantly attack anyone, except us of course."

"Oh, yay."

"Which is why we'll need to be discreet if at all possible. The longer we can keep them from finding out there's an active sailor scout the better."

"But won't us destroying them tip them off to that?"

"Not necessarily. We're living amongst magic users. They aren't tapped into a galactic power source like you and I don't have a proper understanding of your magic's potential; but by that same token, neither do they. I suspect a fully trained wizard might be a match for a youma, especially a starving one."

"Then why don't we ask for help? I mean, we are in a school full of…"

The raised paw halted the girl midsentence, "Hermione. I understand the task may seem overwhelming, but I want you to think about this for a second. I'm a talking cat from a kingdom that existed ten thousand years ago. Let that sink in for a second."

She did, and she blushed, "Does sound a bit silly on the face of it I spose."

"Now imagine trying to explain youma to one of your professors," she continued.

"I could…"

"One of your professors who, for all we know, may be a youma in disguise or some other enemy agent sent to infiltrate the school."

"Oh."

"Yes. The situation is really that bad."

"I see."

She hated to bring her down; moral was important, but she simply could not understate the severity of their situation. "Until we know for sure, we can't trust anyone."

"Not—not even Harry, and Ron?"

"Have either of them been acting strangely?"

"No stranger than usual."

"Then their probably alright; but just to be safe, it's probably best you don't tell them, just for now. Not the only secret you're keeping from them or did you tell them about the time turner?"

"Of course not. Professor McGonagall was quite adamant that no one else should know I had it."

And just like that McGonagall was moved to the top of the inspection list. "Well then, we'll leave it at that. Now, off to bed with you. It's no good staying up all night if you're useless in the morning."

"But I have to…"

"Bed! Now! Go!" the cat shouted, swiping at the girl's feet till she scampered up the stairs with Luna in hot pursuit.


	7. Chapter 7

Card the moon  
Chapter 07 – I am Sailor Moon

…

…A friend in need is not what it seems

"I really appreciate you doing this."

"Think nothing of it sweety."

"It's so embarrassing getting lost like this."

"We've all done it at some point."

It was rough being a firsty, Susan knew. She'd gotten lost a dozen times in her first year, damn her independent streak. The older students had even started calling her lost and found by the time they boarded the train home.

"Don't get lost on the train," they'd joked.

The one who'd said it had been holding his shin as she walked away, jerk. Anyone who thought Hufflepuff's were all friends had never been in Hufflepuff. They just understood, much like Slytherin, the necessity of presenting a united front.

People may have called Slytherin's evil, but the things they called Hufflepuff's were, in their way, much worse. They were certainly more varied. Who knew there were so many ways to say pushover?

"It's this way?"

"Um, yes I think so."

It was a little embarrassing that she was trying to be helpful, yet the one she was helping seemed to be leading. Wasn't he supposed to be lost?

"Are you okay? You look tired."

"Wha! No, no, I—I'm fu—fine." If falling asleep on her feet could be considered fine. It was getting late, but she'd been fine a minute ago.

"Maybe you should rest for a bit."

"Yeah; yeah I'll just—rest for a—second…"

The small child clasped tight the girl's hand as she folded to the floor. So kind, so helpful, so delicious.

"This was definitely a good disguise."

There were so many students in the castle, it didn't take much effort to just blend into the crowd. All you needed was the right colored tie and you were in.

"Now what to do with you?"

"Hold it right there!"

The faux child jumped, nearly tripping over his victim. "What! Who are you!"

(Cue intro)

"I am Sailor Moon. Champion of love and justice. To take advantage of someone's good heart and generosity is an unforgivable crime. In the name of the moon, I will punish you."

"You—you wouldn't hurt a poor innocent firsty?" The 'child' wept; the crocodile tears were particularly good, but…

"Your fake innocence won't fool me, youma!"

"So that's how it is." He shrugged carelessly as though in surrender, then leapt into the air like no human, even a magical one, could ever hope to.

Morphing mid-leap, the squat demon cannonballed at the underdressed twin tail. She retreated from his floor smashing attack, displaying far less confidence in deed than word. He took the offered initiative swinging his wicked clawed hands, narrowly missing the stumbling girl as she retreating danced away from him.

"You need to stop retreating. Show some initiative," someone shouted.

"I'm trying," she shouted back.

"I'm succeeding," he threw in so as not to be left out.

"Sailor Moon, look out!"

The cursed pebble of 'get in front of your foot at the worst possible time', nicknamed Murphy's rock, sent the poor sailor soldier sprawling in a position most compromising.

"Sailor Moon!"

"Gotcha."

The squat youma raised a beefy claw tipped arm, intent on rending the tripping troublemaker from top to bottom. The watery eyes and trembling lip gave him barely a pause. The crying wail however gave him pause, then rewind, then the VCR chewed up the tape and began spitting it out like a ticker tape parade.

"Yeaaaaaargh!"

His brain! His brain was melting. Oh Metallia make it stop!

"Quickly Sailor Moon, the tiara!"

The tiara?

"The tiara! Moon, Tiara, Magic!"

"Moon tiara waaaaaaaaaaagh!"

Cosmic magic tore through the youma's 'fragile' physical shell, rending the dark crystal that was its true form to so much black powder.

"Moon dusted."

"Oh dear."

"… it wasn't that bad."

"Huh! Wha, whasat?"

Susan sat up to an insistent prodding. Her groggy brain perceived a paw, then a face, with whiskers.

"Mrow."

"Mrs. Norris." Uh oh. If she was here, then…

"Now what have we here?"

Crap! Filch.

"Hello Mr. Filch."

"Mm hmm." The old grump grumbled. "Shouldn't you be getting off to your dormitory?"

Mercy? From Filch? No, don't think about it, just go. "Right, I'll just be, um—just be…"

"Problem?"

"Uh—which way is Hufflepuff from here?" So embarrassing.

…It's the arts

"It's new; has to be."

"Yeah but, what is it?"

"A horse?"

"No, looks more like a donkey."

"I meant what style."

"Uh…" pregnant pause—gives birth to, "modern."

"Cubist."

"Isn't that impressionist?"

"What's your impression?"

"The artist was drunk—really drunk—for a really long time."

"You think he had both ears or just one?"

"Why would he only have one?"

"Cut the other off."

"EW!"

"Really Sue, really?"

"It happens!"

If there was one thing you could say about modern art; it brought out the critic in everyone. Even people who didn't know a lick about art at any other time would have something to say about the random splattering's of color that passed in contemporary circles as 'art'.

(And isn't it funny how art is just one letter away from fart. Makes ya think, dun it.)

"Well, I don't understand it."

"That's just because you have no culture Anthony."

"And you do Hanna?"

"Tons."

"Is that why you've looked heavier this year?"

"Are you calling me fat!"

"Guys."

There is much to be said of art, usually at high volume in bitter tones; and when that fails to win the argument, personal attacks; personal attacks for days.

"You're such a snob Anthony."

"Takes one to know one."

"Would you guys stoooo—op! Excuse me," said Susan, eyelids drooping heavily.

"Don't do thaaaaaaaaat! Now you got me doing it."

"Why do I feel—sooooo—tired?"

The cubist, impressionist portrait of the horse, or donkey—burrow? Chortled as the bickering trio slumped to the ground. Delicious life energy flowed into it for the first time in too, too long. In a cruel twist, the light repast only made it hungrier.

"Oh, my calf! Cramp! Cramp!"

The sudden appearance of an out of uniform girl hopping about in a much too short skirt caused the portrait to blink in a very un-portrait fashion. Even the magical variety.

"You—oh, just a second—you, stop right there."

Where did she think it was going to go?

"I am—that's not important, but you—you?"

The girl glared; stomped up within spitting distance and glared some more. "Just what the heck are you?"

"It's a youma," someone shouted.

"I know that, I mean—what is it? Just—what is it!"

Tired of having its artistic integrity questions, and finding this human resistant to its syphoning, that left it but one option.

"Yeek! What are those?"

"Dogs?" yelled the unseen voice.

"No, they look more like cats," the girl argued.

"No cat ever looked like that. Big rats!"

The horse, donkey scowled at the critique of his creations (which were obviously chipmunks) and set them on the annoying girl.

"Waaaaagh! Luna, what do I do?"

"Use the tiara."

"Is that really my only option?"

"Sailor Moon!"

"Alright, alright."

"Huh! What happened?"

Susan looked around the nondescript hall, blinking confusion. Did she fall asleep again? "I really need to get to bed earlier from now on. This is getting ridiculous."

"Huh, whasat?"

"Blaghubuh, bussit."

"Looks like I'm not the only one," she thought aloud.

… Seriously, we're still not done

"What a weird day."

"Don't squirm, it'll all be over soon."

She'd heard a lot of questionable things from a lot of questionable people; when your aunt is head of magical law enforcement you see some shit; but being told not to squirm by a suit of armor as it bearhugged you was a bit beyond the pale, even by her standards. Not like squirming would have done her much good, its grip was just what you'd expect from a man made of metal.

"Is this going to take long? I really need—to be—getting to, bed." She yawned as she began to droop, utterly drained. "I bet this is jus a dream, in'n it?"

"Whatever helps you sleep," said the armor to the unconscious girl. "Weird day is right. I expected more of a struggle." Oh well, no sense worrying about it.

"Hold it right there!"

Spoke too soon.

"Unhand that girl youma. I, Sailor m—not important. Just put her down and back away."

"Or what?"

"OR I'LL—I'll…" indistinctive mumbling.

"Yes. Didn't quite catch that.

"I'll—throw my tiara at you."

The face of absolute shame was almost more than the youma could take. "Say that again," it chortled.

"I'll throw my tiara at you!"

"That's what I thought you said," it really was too much, "Bwahahahahahahaha!"

"Shut up! It's not funny. I mean it."

She did too, the youma could tell, which just made it that much funnier.

"Oh, I've had enough of this! Your butt is moon dust!" she cried.

"Shu da fug up!" All eyes turned to the unconscious Susan, squirming in the armor youma's grasp. "Nee a shu up when people tryin ta sleep."

… What a day

"And the suit of armor was rather easy, despite being so well armored."

"Mm, hmm."

"And then of course, 'that'."

Hermione shivered; she couldn't help it. Too soon, it was much too soon.

"I think we can safely say it was not a youma, though what it was…"

"It's not anything anymore," Hermione grumped.

"Yes, well. Far be it for me to criticize in this circumstance, but I do feel you might have gone a bit too far at the end."

"I don't."

The cat sighed, "Hermione."

"It touched me in ways I did not like one bit."

"You almost brought down the whole castle."

She mumbled something unintelligible, though doubtless uncomplimentary, then returned her attention to her homework. Twelve inches of charm's essay wasn't going to write itself. Though she did pause when a wild badger of a thought came bounding through.

"I do find it strange that we seemed to find Susan Bones being taken advantage of by all of these youma. Seems a bit suspicious."

"Maybe, but probably not," said Luna. "Some people are just born to be the victim."

"That's terrible."

"Maybe, but no less true," the cat said. "Overall. I think we need to work on you taking the initiative, especially when you have the drop on them, and not stopping to make a speech."

"I'm trying," the bushy haired poet protested. "But every time I see one of these youma I feel like I've been possessed by the ghost of Shakespeare and just start talking."

"Hmm, something to work on," the cat mused. "Speaking of work, you need to get to bed."

"I can't. I have to finish this essay, then I still have Transfiguration and Ancient runes."

"Then I think, you need more time."

Luna didn't like the idea of abusing time travel, or even using it at all, but she'd already lost that argument. If she was going to be using the cursed thing, at least she could be making the most of it.

"I can't use the time turner."

"Why not?"

"Professor McGonagall said I was only to use it for classes."

"I'm fairly certain she would count homework as part of class, don't you think."

To her surprise she shook her head. "Only for attending classes. That's it."

The cat stared, struggling to believe what she was hearing. "Hermione, you've added twice as much work as any other student; you can't expect to get all of that done with so little time. It's just not possible."

"Yes, it is. I'll find a way. I gave Professor McGonagall my word I wouldn't abuse this and I'm not going to."

The finality of that statement, like a hard foot to the floor, shocked the moon cat. She'd seen stubborn, but this was STUBBORN. She didn't try to argue. She'd witnessed a lost cause before so she knew what they looked like.

This was troubling, very troubling. Her chosen warrior was going to work herself to death before the Negaverse ever got a chance.


	8. Chapter 8

Card the Moon

Chapter 08 – There's something about Hermione

…

"Hey Harry, you notice anything strange about Hermione lately? I mean, stranger than usual."

Harry chuckled at his friend's caveat. Told you a lot of what he thought of their mutual friend.

"Strange how you mean?" Like constantly appearing and disappearing, carrying around books she shouldn't need for the class they were going to or coming from; the fact she was obviously hiding something.

"Dunno, just, lots a little things. Ya know?"

Yeah, he knew. Hermione had gotten all weird on them this year. Weirder than usual. They both agreed their female friend could be a bit neurotic; a lot bit neurotic, but this was different. She was being secretive, and he didn't like it.

"You, you don't think she, I mean, like Ginny last year?"

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"I had Lavender go through her trunk," Harry said with an unrepentant grin.

"You did not!" Ron's own grin stretched all across his face.

"She seemed, excited to do it. Didn't find anything, least nothing we need to worry about. According to Lavender the things she didn't find were more worrisome." Harry didn't understand it, but he was a boy and clearly not intended to understand, that was what he took it to mean.

"Well, I guess that's good," Ron chuckled.

"Hopefully she'll just tell us eventually."

Ron shook his head, "She won't. Girls are like that. They expect you to just figure it out and then get mad when you don't."

"Really?" his incredulity could barely be contained.

"I'm serious. You forget I grew up with a sister, and my mum, and that looney girl next door. They're all like that. Every single one. Nutters."

"If you say so," doesn't mean I believe you.

"Bet McGonagall's got something to do with it. Remember how excited she was after their little 'talk'?"

He did, vaguely. He'd been preoccupied at the time but recalled the conversation and it certainly made more sense than Ron's other theory. If a teacher said jump, Hermione would be the first to shout, how high.

"Any ideas?"

"Nah, could be anything. There's lotta weird magic out there."

Yes, there certainly was. One such magic currently sat tucked in his back pocket, a reminder of his last near-death experience.

He'd been concerned about Care of magical creatures as soon as he'd gotten the book from Hagrid. Barely survived his first lesson. The second one was far less exciting; his feet remained firmly on the ground.

Buckbeak at least had been happy to see him, which was lucky for Malfoy when his uncontrollable mouth decided to go off. Having Harry between the Slytherin and the Hippogriff was the only thing that saved the stupid ponce and gave Hagrid enough time to get him out of the way.

Everyone agreed he should have let the bird horse have the little snake, even Harry. It was only later he realized how much trouble that would have caused Hagrid.

Trouble was something they didn't need. With Sirius Black lurking around and those floating horrors surrounding the castle they had all the trouble they could handle. And yet, somehow, he'd managed to find more without even trying.

The card had appeared after his near miss; he hadn't noticed till he was changing for bed that night, but he knew. He remembered the word; the one that had come to him, that he had shouted with force and command. It was written on the face of the card just in case he forgot. WINDY.

"You okay Harry?"

"Huh?"

"You spaced out there for a sec."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he lied.

He hadn't told Ron, or Hermione about the card. He'd so much on his plate, with all his new classes and Quidditch practice, there was just no time to think about it; except in the mornings when he stuck it in his pocket.

"You look beat. Wood needs to slow down some."

"Yeah, he's been driving us like crazy."

"You mean driving you crazy."

"That too."

Wood had started the year with more exuberance than Harry had ever seen or hoped he would again. Harry like Quidditch well enough, but there was a gleam in his captain's eye that was just not right. He wasn't the only one who thought so.

"It wouldn't be so bad if not for that weather. It just keeps getting worse."

"Still a couple weeks before the first game with Slytherin," the ginger offered. "Ya just gotta think positive."

"Why? What'll that do?"

Ron shrugged, "That's just what dad says all the time."

Harry like Arthur Weasley, but he found the man's advice on this subject unhelpful.

"I gotta get to practice, before Wood comes looking." He did not need that lecture again.

"Try not to get blown away," his friend teased.

"No promises." Given the strength of the wind that afternoon it was good he hadn't.

As the smallest and lightest member of the team he was normally at a great advantage; it was one of the things that made him such a good seeker. That advantage was flipped on its head and shaken about like a mouse in a cat's mouth against the racing winds that buffeted the pitch. As excellent a broom as his nimbus was, it had no more defense against the elemental forces than he.

Keeping the broom steady was like arm wrestling a gorilla. Practice seemed to drag on forever. He wanted nothing more than to end it, but the snitch was playing coy. He'd not seen a glimmer since they released it and the constant failure was leaving him frustrated.

He circled the pitch while the others ran endless drills, but nothing, not even a glint.

A sudden gust raised him twenty feet in a second and he decided maybe he'd go up for a while. Get above the clouds. Couldn't be any worse than sitting under them.

He angled up sharply, cutting through the bluster as he arrowed for the dark yet wispy sky wall. He stopped short when he became aware of a presence.

He didn't know how he became aware; he couldn't see it, and the only sound was the howling of the wind. He turned his head frantically, seeking, listening, but nothing.

"What is it?" His imagination?

For a terrified second he thought it might be a dementor, but that was wrong. There'd be no mistaking that.

Tightening his grip against the uncertainty he ascended once more, slicing through wet, heavy clouds till he came out the top, a messy haired cloud gopher. No sooner had he poked his head through the clouds did he find it, the presence; and what a presence it was.

He'd never seen such a bird in life, neither in type nor size. It had a swan like elegance, sharp pointed beak and flowing long tail feathers. The falling sun gleamed off the feathery crest, lighting it with an ethereal glow. As to its magnitude, titanic seemed the only word appropriate.

He froze when it turned its graceful head toward him, filled with the strangest series of thoughts and sensations to ever confound a brain. The giant bird, unhindered by such things as brains, took the offered advantage and attacked.

A single flap of its wings threw a tempest wind that snatched and hurled him through the clouds, the world's largest flying squirrel.

Fighting the wind was useless, even if he'd been ten Harry's he'd still be at its mercy. It was the Buckbeak incident all over again. And he felt it, warm in his back pocket. It called to him. Why? He didn't know. Caught in the gale as the giant bird reeled back for another, he didn't have time to care.

"WINDY!" he screamed through the tempest; and she answered.

A swirling seraph exploded into existence, blasting the winds to stillness in a bubble around him. The bird replied with a swirling black cyclone that roared over the clouds. The seraph dove fearless into the vortex, tearing it down to a tiny breeze.

Satisfied with her work she went after her opponent. The bird panicked, tried to flee but was easily outpaced. The seraph bound it with tethers of wind like chains.

Harry watched, confused yet certain, which was only the more confusing. He understood nothing yet he spoke with such confidence you would never have known it. "FLY!"

With this command the bird glowed, lost all form then took on a new one, a familiar one. The wind seraph, her duty fulfilled, followed suit and the two cards floated gently to his waiting hand.

"Bloody hell." There were no other words for it.

His life had already been difficult enough this year; just what had he gotten himself into now?

As he stared at his new acquisition, his hand flashed out and snatched the buzzing golden orb that tried to wizz past his head.

"There you are."

Good. Now he could get out of the air. Not since riding Buckbeak had he so badly wanted his feet back on the ground. He didn't need any more surprises five hundred feet off the ground.

"Why can't I just have a nice quiet year at Hogwarts?"


	9. Chapter 9

Card the Moon

Chapter 09 – Recruiting drive

…

Desperate times call for desperate measures. She may not have been desperate, but the limb she was going out on looked very shaky.

…

"Huh, wha, whasat?"

He was awake. Why was he awake? Something wanted him awake. But it was still dark out; he didn't want to be awake. Going back to sleep.

"Harry."

"Huh! Whose there?" And why weren't they in bed? Didn't they know what time it was?

"I need to talk to you. Come down to the common room."

"Who's—Hermione, is that you?" Sounded female. Who else could it be?

"Come down to the common room."

Why? He wanted to ask, but he spent too much time fumbling for his glasses; by the time he had them she was gone. Bollocks.

"What could she possibly want that can't wait till morning? Doesn't she know what sleep is?"

Grumbling depreciations against his brainy friend, Harry crawled out of his nice warm bed, padded barefoot across the cold stone floor and stumbled drunkenly down to the common room.

"This better be good," he could be sleeping; it wasn't something he did very well, and he needed all the uninterrupted practice he could get.

The common room was eerily empty. No Hermione; no anybody in sight. "If this is a joke, it's not funny."

"Mrow."

Too tired to jump, he was still surprised at the appearance of Hermione's new pet. "What are you doing down here?"

The cat purred under his hand as he scanned the room for some hint of whoever had called him down. "I don't suppose you saw who told me to come down here?"

"I wouldn't say I saw them."

Harry stared, hand frozen mid scratch. Couldn't be.

"Why'd you stop?"

Or maybe it could. "Am I dreaming? Doesn't feel like I am."

"You're not dreaming Harry. This is really happening." The cat was talking. It was really happening. But why?

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"About three."

"Why did you get me up at three?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"Couldn't it have waited till morning?"

He wasn't cognizant enough for a conversation, never mind a conversation with a cat.

"It could not. Time, I am afraid, is of the essence. Hermione needs your help."

"Then why isn't she asking me?"

"You have met the girl."

She did have a point. The eyebrow though was totally unnecessary; so judgmental.

With an agonized groan he flopped into the nearest chair; the cat daintily hopping to the table opposite. "Alright, start at the beginning. And try to make it fast, I'm fighting sleep," with a minute man militia and sleep was coming with the whole armada.

"Well, I suppose the best place to start is ten thousand years ago…"

… Meanwhile, back in the present.

"Okay, let me get this straight. Hermione is helping you fight these youma, who serve this evil queen that wants to take over the world."

"Or destroy it, I'm not sure which she's leaning toward more but, yes."

"And she's doing this because ten thousand years ago some princess stole her boyfriend."

"That's about the size of it."

"Ugh!" Ron was right, girls were nutters. "So, this is why Hermione's been disappearing left and right since school started."

"Not entirely."

"… say what."

… One flip of the time turner later.

"She's using time travel to attend class." He could believe it. His tone suggested otherwise but he could believe it. It was just so Hermione.

"I've told her she needs more time to do all this extra work, but she won't hear it. She's sure she's right and that's that."

"Definitely sounds like Hermione."

"So you see my problem?"

Yeah, they had demons 'inside' the castle now and the only one's fighting them were a talking cat and a bushy-haired bookworm.

"Why not go to one of the teachers for help?"

"I don't know if they've been compromised like the ice cream man."

"Florean, what happened to him?"

"Put on ice, for a while. You noticed, remember? You noticed he was off. He was, because that wasn't him. He'd been replaced. We freed him after dealing with the imposter."

"And you think that may have happened to the teachers?"

"Possibly. I'm still investigating. There's so much strange magic around this castle, it's making it very difficult."

Well it would, wouldn't it, "So you want me to be, whatcha call it—Sailor Scout?"

The cat shook her head. "The Sailor Scouts are bound to their transformation devices. Only their reincarnations will be able to use them. Sailor Moon was an exception. With you, we're going to have to go native."

"Come again."

"This castle is full of magic and we're going to teach it to you," said the cat excitedly. "With any luck, we'll find something to use against the Youma."

Why not. He'd promised he'd take his education more seriously, the parts that would keep him alive. Fighting strange demons seemed to be counter intuitive, tempting fate one might say, but they were already there. It could be argued he'd wind up fighting them anyway, so why not take the initiative.

"Alright, I'm in. Probably crazy, but I'm in."

"Glad to hear it."

"So, what do we do first."

"We need to get you into shape."

"Huh?"

… 4 a.m. WORKOUT

"Lift those knees! Come on. Let's see some hustle!"

"Aaaaaaagh!" Why did he agree to this?

"Move it."

To be a true warrior, a match for the youma, he needed physical strength as well as magical. Being a scrawny thirteen-year-old put him at something of a disadvantage. Nothing but time would change the thirteen bit. That left the scrawny for them to work on.

"Hustle!"

Mistakenly he'd believed Quidditch training was an intense workout. In the first five minutes Luna had taken this idea, dropkicked it across the ring, put it in a half-nelson and made it cry for its mama. It was currently sitting in a corner, whimpering.

"Ugh!"

Harry was seriously thinking about joining it.

"Come on now, don't be a sissy."

"That's easy for you to say."

She wasn't heavy but using him like a mule while she yelled in his ear did not make his situation any more tolerable. And it was four in the morning.

"Come on, you're over halfway there. Let's go."

Halfway there being halfway around the lake. This was the evil felines idea of a light workout, or so she claimed.

"We got a lot of work to do if you're winded already. Let's hustle, hustle, hustle!"

Resisting the temptation to hurl the stupid feline into the lake was hard. It was right there. It would be so easy.

Heaving and wheezing, an epiphany struck him; so, this is what Dudley must feel like ever time he moves faster than a walk. Also, he needed to wheeze harder; if he was thinking about Dudley, he clearly wasn't getting enough oxygen to his brain.

"That's it! Hup to, Hup to," chanted the wicked little drill sergeant.

_ Throw her in the lake. It's right there. _

_ Shut up evil voice inside my head._

Back outside the castle, dry, she ran him through a long series of stretches. Some he remembered from primary school; others he was certain were invented for making pretzels. It was five thirty by the time he was done, and boy was he done.

His rubber bands were floppy, and limp and he still had to haul himself back to the tower. He was not a fan of this idea; lay there, indefinitely, that was his plan. But the cat was not having it.

Doing his best zombie shuffle he staggered up to the castle, just passing through the doors when he was bowled over by a little blonde rocket skipping the opposite direction and not looking where she was going.

"OOF!"

"eep!"

The ground was cold and froze the sweat on his back, sending a chill racing down his spine; damn try hard showing off.

"Hullo, didn't see you there," the blond rocket said, staring at him with startled wide eyes.

"S'fine," he mumbled, possessing too little energy or give a damn to say more.

"Is it? Well that's good. Usually people get very upset when I run into them, or run by them, or near them. Come to think of it I don't believe people like me very much at all."

There was such a thing as being too honest, though he hadn't realized that till just now.

"Mrow?"

"Oh, why thank you kitty. I'd hate to lose him."

Playing 'I'm just an ordinary cat' Luna handed the strange girl a small yellow plushy with tiny cherub wings. He'd never seen a plushy of the kind, nor had he seen one that looked so, tense. The what?

"This is Kero," the girl introduced. "Say hello Kero."

The plushy didn't move. It felt more accurate to say the plushy put great effort into not moving. Again, the what?

"He's very shy."

And you are about three coconuts short of a tree.

I prefer bananas.

… please stay out of the narration.

"Oh, alright."

"Say what?"

"I said are you alright?" she 'repeated'.

Not really, "Sure, why not."

"Because I ran into you. I'm Luna by the way."

"Hello Luna by the way," he replied, to tired to be serious, and too early in the story to be Sirius.

Apparently unconcerned with her surname being 'by the way', "And you're Harry Potter."

Of course, she would know that, "What gave it away?"

"Well, you don't look like a hairy potter, and I figure the person most likely to be Harry Potter is the person you'd least expect."

"Makes perfect sense," if you stood on your head long enough.

The girl nodded, taking on a far away look with her big startled eyes, "I should probably go. It's already so late and I have so much to do."

Without further discussion, Ms. by the way got up and skipped out the door, leaving the hairy potter looking after her, upside down since he couldn't be bothered to get off the ground.

"Well, that was—interesting," offered Luna.

"Something weird about that plushy," he said. Something weird about the girl too but he didn't say that.

"It's alive, whatever it is," said Luna. "Not sure why it was pretending not to be."

"Weirder things around here than that, no doubt," agreed Harry. "Hope I don't see her again."

"Really? She seemed nice enough."

Nice? Sure, but, "I already have one Luna to deal with, I don't need another."

"Whaaa!" the cat declared overdramatically. "I'm not that bad, am I? Harry? Come back here Harry and tell me you love me. I need to hear these words."


	10. Chapter 10

Card the moon

Chapter 10 – The more you know

…

A handsome blonde man stood before a darkly elegant woman. Long shadows drew hard lines across his boyish face in the soft glow surrounding her and the floating crystalline orb; stoic, poised.

"Jadeite, report!"

His air of composure belied how much he did not want to give his report. It was bad news; she was not the sort who took bad news well. She was, however, exactly the sort to shoot the messenger.

"Yes, my queen."

Framing alone would be his salvation; frame the bad news so that it sounded like good news.

"I am happy to report, the magic users we have infiltrated appear to be more powerful than we originally surmised."

Wait for her to take the bait… "How is that?" Bingo.

"Of the thirteen subordinates I planted throughout the castle to observe and collect life energy, all have been destroyed, twelve by forces unknown."

Pause, wait for her to process, "Are you telling me you've lost all of your subordinates?"

Reframe the question, "Not lost my queen, destroyed. I have confirmation of all twelve deaths."

"How di—wait, twelve? You said you had thirteen, but twelve died of unknown forces. What happened to the other?"

Oh yeah, that one, "Explorational sacrifice."

"Explain."

"During my initial survey of the castle I discovered numerous sealed rooms and hidden places. It seems that apart from being a school it is also a holding place for various powerful or forbidden things. In my attempts to invade a certain room and divine the nature of its inhabitant, she was lost to the creature."

"And this creature was strong enough to destroy a youma?" He nodded. "What manner of creature could do this?"

"Horrible," he said, resisting a shiver. "It was mostly amorphous till it woke. All eyes and tentacles, squirming, wriggling, undulating…"

"Enough!"

He almost jumped at the exclamation but managed to stop himself. He knew the creature to be upsetting, but he'd thought his description sufficiently vague. Apparently not. In all the millennia he'd served her, he'd never seen Beryl so, fidgety.

"My queen?"

"Yes!... ehem, um, yes Jadeite, you were saying, about the other twelve. Were there any clues as to the nature of the culprit?"

"None I consider reliable. I found one of the student's unconscious at the scene of one. She was mostly drained, half-asleep and grumbling about cats and short skirts."

"I—see."

He didn't, "As I said, none reliable. But given the other things hidden away in the castle it seems likely they haven't registered the youma as a unique anomaly, just another bit of the background magic.

"How convenient for us," the queen mused.

"Yes, my queen." Don't get excited. Let her ruminate. Don't rush. You still have 'it', just in case.

"Hmm, yes. Is it possible one of the instructors of this school was responsible?"

"Unlikely my queen. The teachers meet weekly to discuss matters of the school and students. There has been thus far no mention of anything like the youma, and they are being especially observant this year. Some sort of criminal is believed to be hunting one of the students."

"Really? Do you know which one?"

"Yes, my queen. He is actually quite famous for an incident when he was a babe. Survived an allegedly unsurvivable murder curse from some powerful wizard who'd been terrorizing the community with his cronies. The boy survived, the wizard died, though not before murdering the parents; his organization fell apart, and now one of the followers has escaped prison and come after the boy."

"Hmm, and this boy, what is his name?"

"Harry Potter my queen."

"And how do you find him?"

"Extraordinary only in how unextraordinary he is."

"Doesn't quite live up to the legend?" she smirked.

"If I hadn't heard the same story from everyone I asked, I'd have thought it a joke. He seems nothing more than a perfectly average young man in all regards save one.

"He is purported to be an exceptional talent on the flying broomsticks I believe I mentioned in my last report. The youngest member of his house's team in his particular position in over a century."

"So, he plays a game well. Anything else?"

"No, my queen. He appears no more talented than any of his cohort who I must report are terribly average."

"So, our youma slayer is unlikely to be found there."

"That would be my assessment, though I will of course continue to observe all of them."

She said nothing to which he took as an encouraging sign. So long as she didn't say 'actually' he was safe, probably.

"Have any of these children shown, predilection, that may be beneficial to our cause?"

"Regrettably my queen, no. While some certainly think highly of themselves, in reality they are painfully mediocre."

"Mediocre talents may not be such a drawback if the mind is sufficiently, pliable. You understand me Jadeite?"

"Of course," not. "Shall I, make efforts?"

"Hmm… for the moment the secrecy of your position is of greater importance. We have waited ten thousand years, a little longer will not hurt."

"Yes, my queen."

Sensing dismissal, he turned to leave without making it look like a hasty retreat. A chill raced up his spine like an avalanche in reverse when he heard the word, "Actually."

Oh stars, it was happening. This was the end. "I just remembered something. You'll be pleased to hear Nephrite has secured a property in the village outside your castle, Hog—something. He will be managing operations from there under the guise of selling books and minor magical trinkets."

"I—see."

He staggered out of the throne room with as much manufactured dignity as he could muster. To anyone watching it would have looked like he had something shoved up his ass.

"Hey Jadeite, want me to pull the stick out for you?"

"Zoisite."

It would be Zoisite. Well tough, his legs said, we're knocking off for a few minutes so you're just gonna have to deal with it.

"Geez, what's your problem," Zoisite snickered as he slid down the wall. "How bad did you screw up."

"I didn't."

"So what gives? Not getting enough sleep or you just want to suck my…"

"DON'T! finish that sentence."

He glared at his fellow general, the snickering jackass. Ten thousand years was a long time; ten thousand years with Zoisite was the very definition of hell, unless your name was Kunzite.

"So spill, what gives?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm bored."

Not difficult, Zoisite had the attention span of a gnat. It was only unfortunate Beryl couldn't have all her generals running around at once, except, "Weren't you supposed to be infiltrating London?"

"Kunzite's working on it," he said flippantly. "We found this rich couple that should work well, but they got a kid and he's off at school. We're taking turns observing them, so we'll be ready to take their place once we see how they interact with the brat. So…"

Sigh! He wasn't going to let this go, "She said, 'actually'."

"Ew! Wait, why are you still alive?'

"She just needed to tell me Nephrite was moving in next door. I guess she forgot."

"Oh, that. Yeah I hear his lieutenants have really wormed their way into the underbelly of that continent."

Iolite and Sodalite had been sent to infiltrate the country of France. They'd found an advanced criminal network spanning the entire continent and were well on their way to establishing themselves as major players. The Dark Syndicate, not terribly clever but it worked.

"Where is Nephrite anyway?"

"Decorating his new pad, I guess. Why, you need to make a booty call?"

Ugh, alright legs, breaks over. Time to go.

"Zoisite, you are a wretched, contemptable whore, and I hope someday that bites you in the ass, and not in a way you enjoy."

"Aw, don't be that way. Let's kiss and make-up."

Just ignore him. He's only doing it for attention. Don't give it to him.

Stomping purposefully through the portal, he reappeared inside his office; the schools vaunted wards utterly useless against a sort of magical travel they'd never seen.

A quick shift and Jadeite was once again handsome but nerdy Professor Jade. And as Professor Jade, Jadeite went to his desk, opened the drawer, its secret compartment, and pulled out the booze hidden within.

After his near miss with Beryl and having to deal with Zoisite; arguably the more taxing activity, he needed a drink like he'd not needed a drink since they were sealed into the Negaverse.

The unexpected knock at his door had him biting back a curse. Schooling his features, he called, "Come in," squirreling away his bottle before the door opened, revealing a bushy haired girl.

"Professor Jade? I'm sorry, am I disturbing you?"

Compared with where I've just been…

"Not at all Miss Granger," he said with the most genuine fake smile you'd ever seen. "How can I help you?"

…

"Harry, I don't like it."

Sigh, "Just ignore it Ron."

"It ain't right I tell you," because just ignoring it was apparently out of the question. "Just not right."

"You know she's doing it just to get a rise out of you?"

"You think?"

"Yeah."

Of course, Ron thought he meant Hermione was trying to get a rise out of him; when in fact it was Luna herself, sitting at the table, nice as you please, leafing through some massive text.

"I don't like it."

"Let it go."

Okay, so in his defense, Luna really was trolling him, and like a large mouth bass he was gobbling up the bait, hook, line, sinker, and about half the rod as well. Let it never be said he didn't excel at something.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to speak with Professor Jade," said Hermione shuffling up and dumping her overstuffed bag on the table with a frightful thud.

"Asking him for some extra homework?" Harry quipped, receiving her glare with a look of pure innocence.

"You wanna do something about that," said Ron, jabbing an accusatory finger at the feline of his ire.

"What's she reading?" A quick scan of the current page, "Cutting spells?"

"Ah ha! I knew it. She's gonna chop up poor Scabbers. I knew it!"

"Oh Ron, don't be ridiculous. She's just a cat. She hasn't even got a wand."

She didn't, but Harry did, which was actually what she was reading for. They'd be having his first spell training soon, and in order for her to teach him, she needed to research. And since she didn't have hands, she needed someone else to get the books down for her.

"She's well read!"

"She's an evil monster."

"Guys! Keep it down or you're gonna get us thrown out."

"Mrow."

Obviously, a better system need be devised, and quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

Card the moon

Chapter 11 Catcher of cards

…

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! Again!"

"Ugh!"

He needed to stop thinking he'd seen the worst she could do; it just encouraged her to prove him wrong.

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! Again!"

Spell practice, he thought, would be like class. A little reading, a little practice, swish and flick and off to bed. Oh, how naïve he'd been.

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! Again!"

Within fifteen minutes he had a working knowledge of three spells and could, sporadically, cast them. He was very impressed. He'd never learned any magic so quickly and was quite proud of himself.

That lasted right up until she laid out how he was to spend the next forty-five minutes.

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! Again!"

He understood the concept of drilling; Wood was very fond of it, but he'd never thought to apply the idea to magic.

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! Again!"

Much as he hated to admit it (and he never would out loud) he was improving. He could now consistently cast all three spells, one after the other. Although, his piercer lacked piercing power, and his cutter was just barely better than a paper cut. The only spell he was confident in was his blaster, the _Reducto_ curse packed quite the punch, but only against solid objects.

"Pierce! Cut! Blast! What the heck was that?"

His limit; finally reached. Arms aching and legs shaking he folded to his knees, panting like the proverbial dog; no biscuit for you.

"Can't—any—more."

"Hmm, no, I spose not," she said. "Not bad for your first session. Not good, but not bad."

Harry glared at the insufferable feline over the top of his glasses, "I hate you."

"Then my work is done," she said, throwing up her tail and swaggering out of reach.

"Come back here—oof! you."

It wasn't enough she drilled him into the ground, she had to rub it in too. Ain't that just like a cat.

"As much as it amuses me to see you lying on the floor like that, get up. Come drink."

With herculean willpower, and when that wasn't enough getting an extra hand from Spartacus, Harry dragged himself to the table where Luna sat waiting by a metal pitcher and a small tin cup.

He didn't know where she got them, nor how she got them there, and he also found he really didn't care. The water was cold and clear and the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

"Easy. Drink too fast and it'll all come back up."

He tried to restrain himself, but it was hard not to just gulp down the magnificent, chilly liquid. He hadn't been so wrung out since; well, since the first time she made him run around the lake.

"We need to work on your mental focus. That seems to be where you're lacking right now."

"Uh huh."

"Meditation might be the best option."

"Great."

"… also, I think the moon is made of cheese."

"Sounds good."

"Harry!"

Something in the word she shouted rang of familiarity. It took him a moment between gulps to realize it was his name. She was saying his name… oh.

"Yes?" he inquired sheepishly.

"Maybe we should continue this discussion later," the cat sighed.

"Okay." He wasn't about to argue, and not just because he thought he'd lose.

Shooing him on his way, Harry staggered jelly legged into the hall. It was past curfew now; he'd not planned for that. He was really going to need to carry the invisibility cloak around from now on, just as a matter of course.

Come to think of it, he should have been doing that already. There was a crazed mass murderer out to get him, wasn't there.

_ It really is a wonder you're still alive after all this time._

_ Oh, shut up._

_ No, I mean it. You're practically begging for it, I tell you._

_ I am not!_

_ I thought we were trying not to tempt fate._

_ This isn't tempting fate—just Filch._

_ Which is so much better._

_ Who asked you?_

_ Well, since I'm you… also it's probably not a good sign you arguing with yourself like this._

_ Aw, shut up!_

_ Poop head!_

As Harry devolved to calling himself names, something moved in the dark. He didn't notice at first, half-delirious with exhaustion and distracted by his argumentative side, it took a sudden flicker at the corner of his eye to freeze him in his tracks.

To most people something so insignificant would have been barely noticed, there and gone without a thought. It was exactly that sort of there and gone, for someone like Harry, that got their attention. There and gone was how a seeker functioned.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

No reply. He should have known. Even if someone was there, it was after curfew; they weren't about to acknowledge it.

The sudden jolt of adrenaline wore off fast. Chalking it up to imagination, he resumed shuffling down the hall.

He didn't see it, but the chill that traced his spine was all the warning he needed.

Turning mid jump, he scanned the hall, wand in hand. His shadow stretched out before him just out of reach from another shadow; a shadow that had no source.

It would have been easy to miss; torches cast strange shadows all along the hall. He may have given it up again as his imagination if the shadow had not chosen to rise up off the floor like liquid ink and assumed solid form.

A new rush of fear coursed through him when he saw its chosen shape. The front brain knew it couldn't possibly be what he thought it was. The lizard brain however, took one look and said, Eh. Close enough.

The panic button was slammed with unnecessary force sending Harry into a flurry of motion, mostly in the leg department.

The black cloak, uninhibited by things like physics, flew down the hall after him, snuffing torches and sconces as it went. Darkness grew like a murky, undulating mass, and Harry learned the only thing faster than a beam of light is a shadow as it falls.

The sudden engulfment sent him stumbling and he fell badly, losing his wand in the encroaching murk!

"Dammit!" Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Words could not express what a fool he felt. He knew it wasn't a dementor, he knew it, but still he'd run. Shame overruled fear as he groped around in the impenetrable dark, hoping beyond hope his wand was there.

"Where is it? Come on."

Unacceptable. One fumble in the dark and he was disarmed and helpless. This must be how babies felt, all clumsy and useless. No wonder they cried so much.

"Gotta find it. Gotta—aaaaaah! find it."

The lethargy stole over him unexpectedly, like someone had pulled the plug and was waiting for the battery to drain. A part of him knew this could not be good. The rest just wanted to sleep.

"No! No. Stay awake. Have to—stay—awake…"

The battle was tilted to the opposition, heavily. He'd already been exhausted, and adrenaline can only last so long. Winning was simply out of the question.

"Stay—awake," he chanted. "Stay—away—ay—huh?"

Without explanation the darkness began failing, falling back as though drawn, and with it the inexplicable lethargy. This of course left the lethargy he could explain which was quite adamantly demanding his attention.

Through sheer force of will he ignored it and turned just in time to see the last of the darkness sucked into a single point which then clarified into an all too familiar object.

He was surprised to see a familiar looking girl holding that familiar object, and a long rod with an odd swan like head.

"Luna?"

The girl in question blinked big startled eyes, "Hullo," which he remembered was how her eyes normally seemed to look. "Are you alright?"

"I've been better," been worse too but why be an optimist. "What's that card there?"

"What card?"

"The one in your hand."

"That's a rod."

"The other hand."

"What other hand?"

"Your other hand."

"I'm afraid I don't have any extras."

Okay, that is quite enough of that.

She stood her ground when he stalked up to her; it was a credit to her will that she could match his angry glare with her big-eyed stare. Or maybe she just couldn't blink.

"Give me your hand."

"I'm using it."

Alright! Enough of this. A man could only take so much absurdity and who did she think she was fooling, hiding it behind her back.

"I saw what you did."

"No you didn't."

OOOOOO! No! no, stop, breath.

"You can contradict me all you like; it won't change what I saw."

"It might."

She sounded less sure of that, but before he could pounce on her hesitance, she changed tactics.

"You didn't see anything," she said, mystically waving her hands in front of his face.

For Pete's sake, "Yes I diiiiiiid," he countered, grabbing her flailing fingers.

"Oh poo."

Thinking he had her, he went to press his advantage when something, about the size of a snitch he thought, came out of nowhere and wacked him in the head. He stumbled, stepped back, and found his wand all at the same time. "Whoop!"

"Are you alright?"

"I've been better."

"Yes, you said that already."

He had said that already. "This conversation is going in circles. Just tell me about the cards."

"What cards?"

Oh no, we're not starting that again, "The ones that look like this," he said, pulling the two from his pocket.

"Oh."

"Where did you get those? What do you know? Who sent you?"

Had he been able to answer the questions, he wasn't sure he would have. As it was, the tiny creature screaming in his face made it difficult to consider its questions without asking one of his own. "Why is the plushy talking?"

"Who are you calling a plushy!" the plushy screamed.

"Kero, calm down. I think you're scaring him." He wasn't. It was hard to be scared of something so small and, well, cute, even if it was screaming in his face. "May I have those please?"

"Why?"

"They belong to me."

"So you sent them to attack me?"

"Oh no, they escaped."

"They escaped?" She nodded. "All on their own."

"No, one of my roommates was going through my things and let them out by accident. She seemed very sorry about the whole thing."

"Sorry she got caught," the plushy, Kero, grumbled none too quietly.

"Anyway, may I have them?"

It was a fair question. They did apparently belong to her, and she seemed to be looking for them if his recent rescue and their last meeting were any indication. He didn't even know what they were, nor how to use them, if using them was in fact a thing you could do. Why should he keep them?

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"I said no."

"Weren't you listening. Those don't belong to you," the plushy shouted.

"And you've proved they're not safe with you. You let them out once and both of them attacked me. I'm not going through that again. Why should I trust you?"

The wide-eyed blonde seemed to consider the question, "I don't know."

To the consternation of her floating plushy, she turned and walked away, still considering the question and leaving Harry alone in the dim lit hallway with more questions than he'd had ten minutes prior.

"Well, bollocks."


	12. Chapter 12

Card the moon

Chapter 12 – Loop and Dash

…

"So, you didn't give them to her."

"No."

"Wise choice, I think. I probably wouldn't have either."

Hearing her say it made him feel a bit better about the decision.

"On the bright side, you now have some insight to their origin."

"Yeah, I guess," for all the good it did him. "Can't help but wonder though; how many more of'em there are."

He'd already been attacked three times, which to his mind was four times more than necessary.

"Come on, you can talk and run at the same time."

Well sure he could; didn't mean he wanted to.

It was only the start of their second week of training, but it felt like he'd been at it forever. If it wasn't Luna it was Wood, and if it wasn't Wood it was Hermione, "Is your homework done? Let me see it."

How she managed to do all her extra work and still worry about him was—well it was sweet, in a way that didn't make it any less annoying.

The only person not constantly on his case was Ron, and he had his own concerns. Scabbers was not improving; his hair was now falling out in patches and he wasn't eating like he used to. Ron of course wanted to blame it on cat related stress, but Harry suspected that was just to avoid admitting to the truth of it. Scabbers was dying. He was old, and he was dying.

Harry was no expert on rats, but eleven years; how many rats could claim to have lived that long? Not many he reckoned.

Mind meandering, while his body trudged at speed, he failed to notice the approaching racket until it came crashing through the bushes and plowed right into him.

"What the!"

"Mrooooow!"

Luna sailed through the air as Harry crashed to the ground with a squirming weight trying to run through the solid object that was his chest.

"Get off me."

Yanking the scrambling creature off he got his first look and was shocked to find a large rabbit; no, not rabbit. It was very rabbit like but there were certain features never seen on rabbits and that faint glow. It didn't take a genius to know what he was looking at.

"Magic rabbit."

Though perhaps someone slightly smarter than Harry.

"Coming throooooouuuuugh!" someone shouted, abusing the bushes on their way out.

"Luna!"

"Oh, hullo Harry Potter."

There was a question, a 'what are you doing here?' or something like that queuing up for inquiry; the magic rabbit decided it had somewhere else to be.

"Whoa! Hey! Hold on a sec!"

When you have a name like DASH, 'whoa' and 'hold on' are typically not things you understand. And if you do, feign ignorance, they'll never know the difference.

"Hang on Harry. Don't let him go."

She made it sound so easy. The tiny creature was dragging him across the ground like he weighed next to nothing. At one point he wasn't even on the ground but flailing along behind like a Harry shaped flag.

"You're wearing him down," called Luna.

"I don't believe you," he shouted back.

The magic rabbit wasn't slowing down, "Oh no," it was heading for the trees.

Harry didn't need to be a genius to know how that would end. He didn't even need to be smarter than Harry.

"Gotta—get this," flailing behind, he swung himself at the first tree.

This had two effects; one, it wrapped him around the small tree as far as he could bend. And two, it redirected the magic rabbit by way of Harry's grip till at last his fingers released and the magic rabbit went flying into the air.

"eeeeeeeee!"

"Got it!"

Having been operating on a different wavelength when he'd captured WINDY and FLY, and being trapped in darkness when Luna had sealed SHADOW, he'd never seen all that went into a proper capture and found himself riveted to the spot watching the blonde girl secure the magic rabbit.

"Card of Clow, I bind you with this key by the name you were given; DASH!"

The magic rabbit glowed and shimmered, became something like a wind as it spiraled toward her rod and became a card. It hovered a moment then floated into her hand.

"Yay!"

He wanted to share in her enthusiasm, but that would have required several things he was currently lacking, like sufficient air power to both speak and wheeze simultaneously.

"Are you alright?"

'I've been better' was right on the tip of his tongue, but as previously stated, lacking sufficient wind force it didn't so much launch as tumble off the end, coming out as more of a, "Unghurer."

"I believe you said that last night. I really must wonder what you use as a standard for comparison."

Any other time he wasn't lying on his back groaning.

"Well, I hope your day gets better," she said, skipping away out of view.

"Haha, serves ya right," said a gloating plushy he hadn't noticed till the moment he floated past, and would have been just as happy not to notice then either.

Some minutes later the other Luna turned up, by which point he'd recovered enough he could wheeze and speak at the same time. "Luna, you ever have one a those days that make you question why you ever got out of bed?"

"Hmm."

"I seem to be having several of those days all at once."

…

"You alright Harry?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" the shuffling zombie groaned.

"S'just, you are looking a bit rough round the edges."

Funny; he was almost certain his rough edged had been ground off quite effectively that morning.

"I'm fine," he lied, if telling an untruth that fools absolutely no one can be considered lying.

"Yeah right, pull the other one."

"The other what?"

Okay, he was so tired he couldn't understand sarcasm, but he was fine. No, seriously guys, I'm totally good. Drinking twenty cups of coffee a day is absolutely normal.

"Wood needs to slow down, or you won't be able to stay on your broom."

"I'd still beat Malfoy."

This made both of them laugh. It hurt a bit.

"Best broom money can buy and he's still useless," said Ron, glancing at the suit of armor as they passed.

"I blame his mother," said Harry.

"Why?"

"She married his father."

*snicker* "I'll bet she hates how much prettier he is."

He wasn't sure where it came from, but he found the energy for a good whole belly laugh. This was followed by a comedic face plant, which he didn't find funny, but Ron laughed. At least this told him where the energy came from. Dammit, his coordination department was already understaffed.

"You okay Harry," Ron chortled.

"Hu en utter."

"What?"

"I've been better," he repeated, pulling his face away from the cold stone floor just long enough to say it.

"Uh, you want some help or you just gonna stay there and kiss the floor."

Well why not. She didn't object and she probably wasn't the ugliest girl he'd ever met.

"Come on Harry."

"Are we there yet?"

With Ron's help he managed to make his feet and resume his shamble toward Gryffindor tower. In his exhausted state the trip seemed to take forever, they hadn't even made it out of the hall. At least he thought it was exhaustion, till Ron asked, "Haven't we already passed that suit of armor?"

"Wuh?" Harry hadn't even noticed they passed a suit of armor.

"I'm sure it's the same one. Look, see, it's got that little ding in the helmet."

He was fully prepared to take his friends word for it if it moved things along, "So, what's going on?" And how much longer was it going to keep him from his bed.

"You stay here a second," said Ron, marching off with purpose only to march up a second later.

"Okay, that was weird." One second, he'd been watching Ron's back, then Ron was coming up on his.

"Looks like we're in some kind of loop."

"Great," just what he needed, a magical trap. "If your brothers are behind this, I'm going to throttle them."

"If Fred and George did this, they've really stepped up their game."

"So, what now?"

Ron shrugged, "Never seen anything like this before, just heard about it. Bill ran across one in Egypt; hall that seemed to go on and on forever. Turned out it was only thirty feet with a loop at each end."

"Didn't tell you how they beat it did he?"

"Gotta find the spell," said Ron, drawing his wand. "Then, cut the loop."

"Kay, where's the spell?" asked Harry, fumbling out his own wand.

"Search me?"

Oh, bollocks. "Alright. How do we cut it then?"

"Finishing charm should do it. Just keep trying till we find it, that's what they did."

That didn't sound very efficient, "And, how long did that take?"

"Uh—couple days."

Of course it did. "I am not wasting a couple days with this, let's get a move on."

Operating on the same wavelength, both threw their first spell at the suit of armor. It rattled and shook, taking umbrage at such blatant accusation, (but not Umbridge, it's too early in the story for that).

"Well, worth a try," Ron shrugged.

They each turned toward one end and began working their way down the hall. Run flung spells at anything suspicious; anything unsuspicious, perfectly innocent, and possible imagined. He wasn't any more keen to spend two days in a hallway than Harry was and fully intended on cracking this one before his best mate.

Harry on the other hand had a hunch. He didn't like it, but it felt too much of a coincidence not to be true.

All the weird things happening to him this year had revolved around those cards… okay so technically Luna (the cat) wasn't, but she had yet to attack him.

Ron was probably on the right track when he said they needed to cut the loop; Harry just wasn't sure a finishing charm was going to be enough.

"First things first. Gotta find it."

Lacking Ron's vigor, he threw a couple lazy spells but wasn't expecting much. The answer had thus far come to him when he needed it, yet another phenomenon he didn't understand, but at the moment it was his best option.

He stopped just short of the loop's end. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew that was it, which was the first hint he was on the right track. It looked no different, but there was a feeling, a tingle up his spine, in his fingers; the sureness that one more step would take him much further than one more step.

"Okay, now what?"

Down the hall he could hear Ron casting and grumbling at his lack of success. If he waited long enough his friend would probably walk right into him.

Was that it?

I mean, if it was going to be somewhere, didn't the connecting points make the most sense? It was a loop after all.

"LOOP," he said, a strong whisper.

He felt something tug, thought he saw something shimmer, then nothing. He tried again, this time with even less result.

"Going to be difficult are we." Was it just stronger than the others or was his exhaustion to blame?

He flicked a finishing charm at it, producing an odd flutter he felt rather than saw, like a wind playing with a bit of ribbon. "Hmm."

That gave him an idea, or the hour he'd spent drilling had wedged it in there and it was just now coming loose.

"_Diffindo_!"

The cutting spell had a pronounced effect, visible and tactile, though it still failed to break the loop. "How bout another one."

And another. And another. It felt like the card was wailing by the sixth. Even Ron could tell something was happening though he was at the other end and thought the brick he was spelling was responsible.

"Ready to give up?" Harry asked, throwing eight, then nine.

The card seemed defiant, but number ten betrayed such defiance as hollow. "Then I'm only going to say it one more time. LOOP!"

The flash echoed the length of the hall, the card gently floating into his hand, complacent and docile.

"Harry! I think I broke it."

"Great!" You just keep thinking it too.

"You coming then?"

Harry looked around at where he was; realization dawning, he wilted, "Why did I have to go to this end of the hall?" Gryffindor, and his bed, were in the opposite direction.


	13. Chapter 13

Card the moon

Chapter 13 – Harry's first youma

…

Sleep. He remembered sleep. It was a thing he used to do, back, before. He remembered wrapping blankets, and fluffy pillows, and warm, snuggly softness. But that was before. Doom hung over his head now, he had seen it; he had seen 'it'.

Luna was sitting in the common room when he and Ron returned from their looping adventure. Ron spotted the feline and dashed up the stairs, leaving Harry to brief her on his latest misadventure.

"You're having quite the term, aren't you Harry?" He certainly was, and she wasn't about to make it any easier. "I've found another youma." It would be the first since Hermione had systematically eliminated all the ones already in the castle when they arrived.

Safe to assume, someone on the inside was bringing them in. "Take the morning off, get some rest. We'll go after it in the evening."

A morning off, what an idea; what a fabulous, marvelous, glorious idea. If he'd had the umph he would have skipped. Instead he managed a slightly lighter trudge up the stairs.

A morning off. He could use a morning off, he thought as he changed for bed. Glancing out the window, all thoughts of mornings off fled his mind; he did a double take and froze.

Down by the pitch, at the edge of the forest a shape moved. Four legs, it had four legs and fur, black as the ace of spades. It was gone quickly, but he couldn't pretend he hadn't seen it. The Grim.

Sleep, then, became a foreign agent. Try as he might, the wrapping blankets grasped with no warmth and the fluffy pillows were as lead beneath his head. Warm, snuggly softness was replaced by deep, chilling dread.

Sufficeth to say, he found little rest and those small amounts found were of such poor quality he may as well not found them at all.

"Bloody 'ell mate, you look terrible," Ron said the next morning.

"Ron?"

"Yeah mate?"

"What is sleep? Is it tasty?"

The lack of sleep was catching up to him at last; not hard, it hadn't been trailing that far behind.

The day did not improve after he groaned his way out of bed. Hedwig came to visit for no particular reason and swiped his bacon when he failed to acknowledge her presence. His roommates chortled.

They stopped when they all slunk into potions. Snape was in rare form, stalking around the room taking points for anything he could think of, and failing that, making things up.

It didn't help that Harry, his favorite victim save perhaps Neville, did not react to anything and somehow managed a perfect boil remover. It didn't earn him any points, go figure, but Snape could find no way to take them either.

The look on his face was something between incoherent fury and tear yourself a new butthole constipation. If only he'd been coherent enough to appreciate it.

"Can you believe the look on his face?"

"I will treasure the memory forever."

Trudging along behind them, Harry wished he could remember what they were talking about. It seemed important, like, really important. If only his brain would just—brain!

"Pssst… Pssssssst."

And now that suit of armor was 'psss'ing at him. he wasn't sure but it seemed like a rude thing to be doing, 'psss'ing at him.

"Harry, down here."

He attempted to make the instructed adjustment but went too far, "A'ss mu feet." Gee his shoes were dirty.

Something small and black stepped into frame, looking up at him with an expression, on a face. No; no, don't tell me, I know this one… "Kitty." Or not.

"Try again."

"Luna?"

"That's the one."

_ Knew I had it._

"I thought I told you to get some rest."

"Wass'at."

"Sleep, Harry."

"No thank you I'm goo—oh, no, I got that, I got that, it was—um, can you say that again."

"Oh dear."

Harry was so disconnected he had no grasp at all of what was going on or why the kitty seemed so upset. Maybe she needed a pet, but his arms wouldn't reach that far.

"I suppose asking if you remember the youma would be a waste of time."

"Yo mama waste a time."

"Oh dear. This is not how I was hoping this would go. Oh well, too late now."

"What's too late now?"

Giving him a questioning look, though what, when, where, or how he wasn't sure, "Harry, could you turn around."

Could he? He tried and found he could. Amazing. His shoes were still dirty, but there were metal shoes too. Where had those come from?

The shoes were connected to metal legs, attached to a metal cod piece, (oh, my); moving right along, breastplate, that was not shaped like breasts; the helmet was surprisingly close to his face and the gauntlets hovered at the end of metal arms twitching, like they were trying to get a hold of something but couldn't.

"Hello," said Harry.

The helmet grunted, fingers twitching, "Why can't I drain you?"

"Drain what?"

"Your life energy. Why can't I drain it?"

Harry wondered the very same thing, "Have you tried using a straw?"

"Harry, stop trying to help the youma."

"But she can't drain me," he wasn't sure why, though he was almost certain that was a thing she should be able to do.

Unfortunately for him, this particular youma wasn't the sort that appreciated help. Unfortunate for her, when she lunged to grab Harry he managed to stumble out of the way, tripping her face first into the wall.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"I fall on my butt," he said.

Yes, he did, but at least he didn't run headfirst into the wall, "Oo, your gonna pay for that," the youma groaned.

"Harry, quick, your wand."

"Want what?"

"Your wand! Where is it?"

Where was his wand? Hmmmmmmm, "I think it's in my bag," was that right? "Yeah, it's in my bag."

"Pull it out!"

"I don't think so," the youma snapped, sparking vile black lightning between her fists and punching a wicked black lightning bolt at Harry.

The bolt lifted him off the ground and threw him into the opposite wall.

"Harry!"

"Luna," Harry groaned. "I'm awake now."

"Not for long."

Rather than attack, the youma slammed her fists together and surged, armor became like liquid and produced spikes, spikes, and just for a change, more spikes.

"Harry, I think we should run," Luna queried.

"Luna, I think you're right."

And run he did, it was fast, and short. He may have been awake, but the result of his lost sleep could not be ignored and his body tired quickly. He'd barely gotten around the corner when he had to stop, nearly stumbling into the wall.

"Harry!"

"I can—I can't. I got nothing." He shook, leaning against the wall for support. The Grim, he'd seen it, and he was about to die.

"Gotcha!"

The youma came around the corner and lunged like a leopard. Arms gleaming with sharp points swiped at his head, driving him the only direction he could go, down.

The wall tore like cheap paper, dumping stone debris on Harry's head as he sat staring up at the monster about to kill him.

"Say goodnight smartass."

He didn't, in fact, say goodnight. He didn't say anything. Somehow, he didn't need to, she still heard him. The gale surrounded him and blasted the youma across the hall, lodging her nail like spikes in the opposite wall like a hammer.

The elegant fae like woman made no appearance but he could feel her presence, the warmth in his pocket where the three cards were stored. Inspiration struck, an idea, possible the only one he was going to have, judging by the speed the youma was removing herself from the wall.

He stood; reached into his pocket and pulled out a card as she set her sight on him again.

"Alright, no more fooling around. Master Jadeite will already be annoyed at this mess. Time for you to die."

She lunged, he whispered. Her armored arm that could easily tear through stone would part his weak flesh easily. It slid through his chest like it was nothing, and exploded from her own chest, much to her surprise.

"Wha—what?" If a suit of armor could look confused.

It didn't last long. She didn't last long; crumbling to dust, a black crystal fell to the ground. Harry stepped forward and smashed it underfoot without a second thought. Silence followed; skittish, tepid silence, ready to run at a second's notice.

"Is—is that it?"

"Harry, that was—how did you—are you alright?"

Was he? "I don't…" he took a single step and crumpled to the floor.

"Harry! Harry, speak to me!"

"Luna. M'tired," he mumbled.

"Harry. We can't stay here. We need to…"

He never heard what they needed to; darkness fell, and unconsciousness claimed him. Whatever it was, it could wait.


	14. Chapter 14

Card the moon

Chapter 14 – Ain't no rest for the wicked

…

"Could have gone better. Bah! It couldn't have gone much worse. Lucky he's even alive. And him. Oh, not good, not good at all."

Luna muttered to herself as she pattered through the hidden 'cat door' into Gryffindor tower. The portrait guarding the little hole was of a fat orange cat. It only opened if he noticed you ignoring him.

Whoever put it there clearly had some thoughts on cats.

"Need to rethink this whole thing. Maybe work ahead in the curriculum, kill two birds with one stone. That could clear out some time. Efficiency, that's the key. Need to be more efficient. And sleep, heaven sakes."

She was still muttering as she stalked into the nearly empty common room. She went silent finding someone still up so late. Her expression soured when she saw who it was.

There was another problem, and this one had an obstinate streak.

"Ehem!" she ehemed.

The girl looked around in confusion; black bags weighing down bleary eyes that looked everywhere but where they should. "Down here."

"Oh, Luna. I—~~—didn't see you there."

"I'm quite amazed you can see anything right now."

"I'm fine," the bushy-haired girl claimed, rubbing her eyes and simultaneously ruining her case.

"You should be in bed. You keep losing sleep like this it's going to negatively affect your performance and your grades are going to start sliding."

"Wha! No; no, I'm fine I…"

"B's Hermione. B's!"

It was a testament to how transparent the girl was that Luna had her completely figured out in the short time they'd been together.

"Well—maybe it can wait till morning to finish," she hedged, glancing between the dorms and the big heavy book. So big; so wordy; maybe just a little more…

"Hermione."

"Eep! I'm going."

She only stumbled a little on her way to the stairs, turning before she was two steps up, "Luna, you haven't seen Harry by any chance?"

"Judging by the look of him he's probably asleep by now. I'm not entirely sure he was ever awake."

"Yeah. Maybe I should check on him…"

"Hermione."

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going."

…

"Hmm." Another one bites the dust, so to speak.

It had been a calculated move, intentional. He'd placed the youma somewhere obvious, yet not too obvious to seem suspicious; the intent being to draw out the mysterious youma slayer, if one in fact did exist. The evidence was sadly, inconclusive.

Signs of the battle were easy to follow, the youma wasn't subtle. Huge chunks of stone had been torn from the walls and great gouges marked her passing.

"It was here, they killed her here," he thought aloud, looking at the deep hole where a fist had torn right into the wall, and the opposing side where someone had been slammed, hard enough to crack the stone.

It wasn't clear how she'd been killed, but there was no further sign of battle, it must have ended here. But how, and who?

Waving a hand, he repaired the damage, leaving no trace the fight had ever happened. "It wouldn't do to arouse suspicion."

His enemy was cagey, if enemy they were. He needed more information before he started making plans. Another trap need be set. A more subtle youma. Or better yet, two. One as bait, the other to observe.

"Hmm, now who should it be?" Casually he walked back to his office, pondering the question.

…

"So unguarded," he really was. Fast asleep, he looked so unguarded, so innocent, such a nice boy.

If she were being honest, and she was almost reasonably sort of confident that she might have been, he probably was a nice boy. She'd just caught him on a bad day. It's not like he was trying to be mean to her. He didn't even know her.

Not that it had stopped anyone else from picking on her in the past, but he was a nice boy. She was at least forty five percent almost positive he could be.

He stirred in his sleep. Unconsciously she ran a hand through his messy black hair. She'd heard of such hair being called a 'rat's nest' before. She didn't think that was literal, but she could certainly imagine the sort of things that might make a home in there.

Whatever private demon troubled him quickly subsided, but she saw no reason to stop what she was doing. It felt right, she thought it did anyway. Some might have disagreed, thinking it not at all right standing over a sleeping person contemplating what she was contemplating. Well, they weren't there to stop her so HA!

She'd only come for what was rightly hers. The cards didn't belong to him, and they were right there, winking at her from his back pocket. Not even a hands length away. She could take them and go, and he'd never know it was her. She could, that's why she was there. She could do it. She could… she could.

*sigh* "Oh Harry."

Regretfully pulling her hand away, she turned to leave. Her perpetual look of surprise served her well upon discovering a certain black cat standing in the doorway staring at her intently. Cats were well known for their stare, but the young witch felt there was a bit more to this one than the average kitty.

"Good evening."

"That seems entirely subjective at the moment."

Yep, definitely not the average kitty. "I was just leaving."

"Were you?" The feline's tone suggested her plans may be changing.

Time for a non-sequitur, "He really is a nice boy," she said.

"He is," the feline agreed. "A very nice boy."

"Yes," she had thought so. "I wonder, do you think we could be friends?" She didn't have any friends; except Kero of course, but he was going to be very annoyed when he found out what she'd done.

The cat considered her with a penetrating stare, "Would you really be his friend. You might not wish to be, if you knew what he was involved in."

"I don't think friendship is dependent on that sort of thing. Or if it is, it shouldn't be." If friendship was situational it would never last long, that seemed silly.

"Hmm," the feline hmmed, hopping onto a nearby desk and staring at her some more. "And you're not even going to mention that I'm a talking cat?"

"Is that strange," Kero talked, and didn't look near as smart as a cat.

"Context I suppose," the cat sighed. "You should go."

"I should," she agreed; it would have been rude to argue. "Just one thing," she said at the door, "I don't think I caught your name."

"What did you say your name was?" the cat asked with a suspicious grin.

"Luna," replied Luna.

"There, now you caught it."


	15. Chapter 15

Card the moon

Chapter 15 – Time for tea

…

"We'll bring you back something, promise."

"Yeah, yeah."

It wasn't fair, but what else was new.

He'd known he wouldn't get to go to Hogsmeade, not after the Aunt Marge incident. Asking McGonagall to sign his form had been an act of pure desperation, and one he couldn't blame on a lack of sleep.

After his first youma, Sgt. Evil kitty made some adjustments to his training regimen, which was good because Oliver was pushing the team as hard as ever, and the forecast was looking bad for their first game.

What a year.

"Look on the bright side Harry. Now you can help me hunt down that youma."

"Oh, goody." Because hunting demons was totally comparable to a fun day in the village.

"I'm not feeling the love."

Sighing, out of necessity as much as drama, he picked up the annoying feline and applied the magic touch.

"Oh, yeah. Now I'm feeling it."

Too busy 'feeling the love' to give directions, Harry wandered aimlessly with the cat in his arms. The halls were depressingly empty; anyone who could be out was. This did not include Colin Creevey who offered Harry in on a game of Exploding snap, which he 'humbly' declined.

"Why would anyone play a card game where the cards explode," Luna mumbled as they walked away.

"Explosions make everything better." Scientific fact.

"Hmm, I wonder if there's a spell for that?"

"If there isn't, there should be," if there was any justice in the universe.

Speaking of injustice, "Aye now, what're you doing here?"

"Walking, Mr. Filch."

"Why ain't you with the rest of'em down in the village?"

"No permission form," thanks for reminding me, arse.

"So, you juss decides you'd take the cat for a walk then. Just drag the whole great outdoors through half the castle, aye."

He hadn't even been outside, but he knew better than to explain that to Argus Filch. When he started in on a tirade the last thing you wanted to do was interrupt, if you were a student. If you were a poltergeist, things were a bit different and the crash, bang, boom did exactly that, saving Harry from a much unneeded lecture as Filch went screaming after a madly cackling Peeves.

"Something very wrong with that man," opined Luna.

"He's not a youma is he? I'd be totally okay if he was. Him or Snape."

"No such luck. The smell is strong but not youma, just dirty old man."

"Figures," his own fault for getting his hopes up.

"Afternoon Harry."

"Huh! Oh, Professor Lupin."

"Mrow."

"And to you as well miss…"

"Oh, this is Luna, she's Hermione's cat."

"Mrow."

"Luna? Ah yes I see, because of the…" he tried to gesture, but the aquarium he was carrying made it a tricky proposition.

"What's that?"

"This? Oh, something for class. Would you like to see?"

"Sure," not like he anything better to do, and he couldn't resist a good mystery; couldn't resist a bad one either.

"Why don't we go to my office then. It's heavier than it looks. I'll make us some tea."

So, Harry and Luna joined Professor Lupin for tea. The office looked very different from the time when Lockhart used it. There was a huge tank occupying one shelf and into that Lupin dumped the one he was carrying.

"What is that?"

"Mrow?"

"That, Harry, is a grindylow."

"A what?" ugly, that's what. Ugly with attitude. It had small horns on its head, long spindly fingers and a face even a mother couldn't love which it pressed against the glass rudely.

"Water demon," Lupin said. "The trick is to break its grip; the fingers are strong but very brittle. I imagine after the kappa this one shouldn't give us any trouble. Now, how bout that tea."

He flicked his wand at a small tea pot that whistled brightly. "Afraid I've only got bags. Though I imagine you're probably sick of tea leaves."

His face must have said it all and babbled more than a bit to make Lupin chuckle like he did, "Professor McGonagall told me."

Gossipy teachers.

"Here you are," he said, setting the cup of tea in front of Harry. "I must say I'm glad to see you looking so much better. You seemed quite out of sorts for a while."

"Wasn't sleeping so good—lot going on this year," Understatement of understatements.

"Trouble getting your schedule in order?"

"Something like that, yeah," though it was not at all his fault.

The one responsible sat quietly in his lap pretending she wasn't being criticized while he sipped his tea a bit heavily which must have been obvious to Lupin, the weight of his thoughts.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me Harry?"

"No," but if he didn't now, "Yes. That day with the boggart, why didn't you let me face it?"

"I should think that obvious," he said, to Harry's surprise. Not denying it but flat out admitting.

"Why?"

"It was my belief if you faced the boggart it would turn into Lord Voldemort. Clearly, I was wrong but I'm sure you can understand, having Lord Voldemort suddenly appear in the staff room would have caused a panic."

He was right of course, it was obvious once he stopped to think about it, except, "He wasn't the first thing I thought about though. Those things, the dementors, it was them, not Voldemort," and wasn't it strange to hear the name from someone other than himself. The only other person he'd ever known to say the name openly before was Dumbledore.

"Yes, I see. Well Harry that seems to say to me what you most fear—is fear. That is very wise."

"Is it?" Whether it was or not it made him feel good to hear it.

Though he couldn't help but wonder, would it be different now, after his encounter with the youma. It certainly hadn't been the same experience as the dementor, but it had almost killed him, and unlike with Voldemort he could actually remember this one; every razor-sharp stone splitting inch of it.

He sipped his tea and pondered only to be interrupted a moment later by a knock at the door.

"Come in," Lupin called.

The door swung open and to Harry's shock, admitted Severus Snape, "Lupin, I have that potion for you," he said, eyes narrowing upon discovering Harry present.

"Ah, thank you Severus. Just set it there on the desk please."

"I've brewed a whole cauldron," he continued, "if you'll need more?"

His eyes shifted between Harry and Lupin as he placed the lightly smoking goblet on the desk.

"Yes, I should probably have another tomorrow. Thank you, Severus."

"Not at all," he said, throwing Lupin a final look before going. It wasn't a good look, Harry thought, worse even than the ones usually directed at him. Harry stared at the goblet, gently smoking on the desk. Concern growing, he turned his gaze to Lupin. As if sensing the question Lupin cut him off before he could start.

"I'm afraid I've been feeling a bit under the weather of late myself," he said. "This is the only thing that helps. Just too bad sugar makes it useless."

Harry watched horrified as he lifted the goblet and took a sip, "Mm, yes. I've never been much of a potion brewer myself, and this is quite a complex brew. I'm really quite lucky to have a potion brewer like Snape around."

"You know he fancies the dark arts," Harry blurted, horrified fascination blocking off the pathways that powered his verbal filter. "They—they reckon he'd do anything for the position," his mouth continued to run.

"Really, you don't say." In one go he gulped the rest of it down, setting the goblet back on the desk, still smoking. "Disgusting. Well, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast tonight."

And that was it. Leaving his empty cup next to the empty goblet, still smoking, Harry left the office.

"You don't think—you don't think it was…"

"Surely not," said Luna. "No one could be that obvious."

Harry wasn't so sure. Snape was famous for a lot of things, infamous in fact, but subtlety was not one of them.

"Don't dwell on it," the feline ordered. "Come, we've hunting to do, remember."

"What a coincidence. We're hunting too."

The shock of here appearance, which was shocking merely for the surprise, was not near so shocking as her 'appearance', since it was that which left him gaping, in shock.

"Is something wrong with your mouth?" she asked.

According to who? "What are you wearing?"

"It's my safari outfit. We're hunting, aren't we Kero?"

"Shhhhh!" the plushy hissed, "don't tell them."

Whatever they were hunting, it must have been blind, Harry thought.

Though he'd never been hunting, he understood stealth was a principle involved, and no one had ever been stealthy in neon green shorts. Arguments could have been made for the pith helmet, though he refused to believe any justification could be made for the Viking horns she'd attached to it.

It was too much all at once, his brain couldn't manage the aggravation. "Luna!"

And together they replied " "Yes?" "


	16. Chapter 16

Card the moon

Chapter 16 – A hunting we will go

…

"Okay, backup a bit, let me see if I got this straight."

She stopped, took three steps back, then waited expectantly.

"Right," she was doing it on purpose. Had to be. "Last night, you sensed a Clow card."

She nodded.

"But you don't know which one."

Again, she nodded.

"Or where it is."

Nod.

"I see."

"I don't think I like your tone," said the plushy.

Harry stared at the confrontational bit of cuteness who stared back defiantly.

"Am I aloud to complain about your tone, squeaky?"

"Who are you calling SQUEAKY!" he totally didn't squeak. "I am Keroberos, guardian of the book of Clow."

"That's where the cards were," Luna whispered 'discreetly'.

"So, you're supposed to guard these cards huh?"

"That's right," he replied smugly. "I am a mighty guardian."

He brimmed with confidence, beaming out his magnificent importance. Harry'd seen that trick and read the message a bit differently.

"So, mighty guardian; if you're supposed to be guarding the cards, how'd they escape?"

"Eh—uh…" he had no answer for that.

"I think it was destiny," said Luna, the girl, coming to the rescue.

"Losing the cards was destiny?"

"Yes."

"Destiny's getting lazy," or the mighty guardian was sleeping on the job.

"No, no, it makes sense," said Luna, the cat. "The adventure is in finding all the cards now they've escaped; you meet destiny along the way."

"Exactly," said Luna, the girl.

"So now destiny is hitch hiking," lazy and cheap.

"I don't think you're getting into the spirit of the thing Harry," said Luna.

"He does seem very grumpy, doesn't he," agreed Luna.

"I am not grumpy!"

The two Lunas shared a look; cursed conspiring women. They were plotting against him, he could tell. He was not having that.

"Well, good luck finding your card. We have to go," he said.

"Oh, yes. We have to find that youma," Luna, the cat, remembered.

"What's a youma?" Luna, the girl, asked.

"I'm afraid that information is proprietary," said Luna, not the girl. "Very hush, hush."

"Wow, two hushes."

"Maybe even three."

"Goodness."

Good grief. "Anyway, we should go."

"Go where?"

That was a good question, "Where are we going?"

"I have a few possibilities in mind."

Well that didn't bode well. "You don't know where it is?"

"This one's gotten smart," she said. "It changes locations after each attack."

"Clever girl," said Luna, not the cat.

"There's a pattern though. I managed to observe its last attack. When it was done it teleported somewhere else."

"I thought magic travel didn't work inside Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Only the types they know about," said Luna, the girl, not the cat.

"So, this thing could be anywhere?" Merlin have mercy.

"Could be, but I don't think so. The attacks appeared in a pattern, that's how I found it. Provided the pattern hasn't changed, we should be able to find her."

"Great," sort of, "let's go."

"Yes, let's."

Harry stopped, so did the girl, "Luna," he said, putting his hand over the cat's mouth.

"Yes Harry?"

"We, that being me and this one here, are going to find that youma."

"Yes Harry."

Okay… "So, what are you doing?"

"Following you."

…why? "Don't you have a card to find?"

"Yes Harry."

"Then why don't you go do that?"

"I don't know where it is."

"Then why don't you go look for it."

"I am, wherever you're going."

"Ha!" Kero added smugly, knowing, as Harry did, she'd masterfully outwitted him.

"So, where are we going?"

An out of the way hall on the third floor. It seemed a bit counterintuitive to Harry, the hall barely got used.

"Look!"

Barely, not never. Harry recognized the girl folding to the floor when they arrived. The way she did it, it looked like she'd had a lot of practice.

The youma hovered above her, a vaguely human femalish thing with eyes all over her body. Ironic since she hadn't noticed them yet.

"So now what?" he asked, as they peeked around a plinth with an ugly bust on top.

"With all those eyes, flash her. If it works, blast, if not, dodge."

"We can get that girl out of the way," offered Luna, clutching her funny rod.

"Then let's do it."

He made no effort to be stealthy and marched right up to her. He felt the drain start as soon as she noticed him and let her have it, filling the hall with a brief flash of light brighter than the sun.

The eyes weren't just for show. She flailed in anguish, eyes closed tight till Harry blasted her out of the air, off of a wall, and down to the floor.

He moved in for a follow up when something else fell to the floor; shocking since it seemed to appear out of nowhere, dropping on top of the youma like a sack of rocks, or so the heavy 'oof' suggested.

"What the?"

"Idiot! What're you doing? You're supposed to be watching," the youma snapped, pushing the other off.

"I was watching," it shouted back. "That's why I can't see anymore, dammit!"

The two kept arguing, but Harry'd already picked up the bits he needed. "It's a trap."

He threw another blaster at the one with the eyes that smashed her into the wall but when he tried the same with the other, she nimbly dodged.

"Have to do better than that human," she taunted. "I'm not just a one trick pony like that one. All my senses are superior. I can destroy you without seeing you."

Her long hair animated like it were gasped by the wind and from it flew long needles that bit into the floor deep enough to stand. Harry dodged left and right but was still pursued by the raining needles.

"Crap! I need a shield," or something with a similar effect. "WINDY!"

The card in his pocket erupted, a furious cyclone around him knocking away the steely projectiles, allowing him to launch a small barrage of cutters at the youma. His frustration rose as she nimbly dodged each attack, crossing paths with the other who was staggering to her feet.

Eyes just barely starting to open she was not yet a serious threat, but there was no one coming to the rescue and if he wasn't quick, he'd be outnumbered. He already felt outmatched by the quick youma, but he was quick too.

His protective barrier dissipated when he rushed the youma, throwing a blaster at the wall next to her. Her senses could track the spell, which would not hit her, but she couldn't know the effect it would have on the wall and was blindsided when a small crater exploded in stone shrapnel against her head.

Tumbled off the wall she'd been clinging to like a spider, she rolled as she hit the floor. Harry got in a pair of cutters, doing little damage but trimming her hair a bit which seemed to unsettle her. She retreated near her companion whose eyes were now half open and all glaring at Harry.

"Oh shit!"

"I see you," she snarled, and her eyes began to glow.

Beams of light blasted from each of her eyes; Harry hadn't even time to flinch.

"MIRROR!"

The spectrum of beams connected inches from Harry with an invisible force. Harry thought it looked something like a large ornate mirror, but it was gone quickly, the disparate beams rebounding as a single wave that swept up both youma.

"Whoa!"

"Harry, are you alright?"

The big-eyed girl looked at him with wide-eyed concern. "You did that? I—uh, thank you." What else could he say.

"Your welcome."

It may have been a touch of euphoria, but he found himself smiling at the quirky blonde. Maybe he hadn't given her a fair shake. Such things would have to be considered later though.

The youma, staggered by not destroyed by the rebound, were back on their feet and hissing mad.

"Alright. I don't care what Jadeite said. I'm ripping them apart," the eye youma shrieked.

"Not if I get to them first," the other snarled.

The fight seemed ready to engage, when the weather went completely sideways. Ice in thick sheets pelted the youma from behind. It came on fast, swirling around them as they shrieked and railed, believing their enemy responsible.

Harry and Luna just watched as the struggling youma were swiftly encased in ice. A strange creature of crystalline animal form appeared once the job was complete, eyeing them like a fox eyeing a rabbit.

"Harry, I think I found the card."

Harry stared at the odd creature who stared back at him with malicious intelligence, "Luna, I think you're right."


	17. Chapter 17

Card the moon

Chapter 17 – Fear in the halls

…

"Hey Ron."

"Yeah Harry."

"He's doing it again."

"Want me to tell him to bugger off?"

"Would he?"

"Probably not."

Sigh, "Didn't think so."

Life draining demons and dangerous magical spirits had roamed the halls since start of term, and no one seemed to notice. One homicidal mass-murderer rips up one painting; panic, panic, everyone to the bunker.

Honestly, some people.

He understood why Luna was trying to keep her thing quiet, but it boggled the mind that no one had reported 'something'. Was everyone at Hogwarts just that desensitized to weird shit.

Did that mean he was the weird one.

"Don't you have class Percy!"

"It's in this direction Ron."

They were both pretty sure it wasn't, as sure as they were that he was doing it because Molly had asked him to.

Harry appreciated the thought, he just wished there'd been an alternative to Percy.

"Cheer up mate. Least there's Quidditch."

There almost hadn't been.

After the attack on the fat lady, McGonagall had brought him in to explain the situation. He'd never seen her look so grave, when she tried to tell him. But of course, he already knew all about Sirius Black. All about him.

But then she'd brought up Quidditch. Not safe out there; shouldn't be training in the dark. Her argument was sensible, but this was Quidditch she was talking about. Sensible did not apply.

And as much as he would have relished more time to sleep, trouncing Slytherin took priority. Yes, demons and monsters roamed the halls, but beating Slytherin was still the priority.

Quidditch did that to you.

He'd had to beg, and a bit of pleading never went wrong. Plus, it helped that she wanted that Quidditch cup in her office as much as the team wanted to put it there. It wasn't just the members of her house Snape rubbed the wrong way.

She relented, on the condition Madam Hooch be present at their practices.

Harry didn't mind, though he saw little reason for it. She hadn't been able to wrangle a runaway Longbottom his first year; what was she going to do against Sirius Black?

Sleep, from what he'd seen thus far; lucky witch.

Three days out from their first game of the season none of the team was getting much. This would have been a problem for his training with Luna, if his various well-meaning stalkers hadn't already made that near impossible.

He'd tried doing extra spell practice when he could, but he was being stifled at every turn. He couldn't just throw around blasters and cutters wherever he pleased, and the youma had not stopped coming.

Hermione had taken another three groups; pairs, like the last ones he'd fought. The enemy must have figured out they were being attacked. Only so much could be chalked up to coincidence.

He had to wonder how long it would be before the boss showed up to investigate personally. Harry had no faith he could take someone like that.

He needed to get better. He needed to get better fast. He also needed perfectly pompous Percy to stop following him around.

"Okay, we're here. Thank you, Percy."

"Just be sure to wait for me when class is over."

"Yeah, yeah we'll do that," said Ron as his brother strode off. "We are not doing that."

"Not unless he beats us out," agreed Harry.

It was like the opening of the chamber of secrets all over again; fear was having a parade through the halls with no sign of anyone stopping him. Harry was all too glad to get back to the common room, until he got there.

Wood was pacing before the fireplace. The rest of the team sat nearby looking dour. He was hesitant to join them, but Wood spotted him before he could back his way out; Ron was in the way.

"We're playing Hufflepuff this weekend," he said without preamble.

All ideas of escape vanished, "What! Why?"

"Slytherin's seeker."

"What about him," the useless little ponce.

"Notice how he ain't been around at all today."

He had actually, just not in a way that left him wondering where the obnoxious git was. A smart dog doesn't wonder where his fleas have run off to, he just appreciates the alone time.

"Flint comes up to me after Charms today and says their seeker's got beat up, so the team can't play. I thought he was ruddy full of it, so I went up to the hospital wing and checked."

"So did we," threw in Fred.

"You should of seen him," said George.

"Why?" please don't let it be a youma.

"Whoever did it knew what they were doing," said Wood, retaking control of the conversation. "According to Pomphrey there was barely a place on his body that wasn't bruised. Three broken bones, four cracked ribs. They were thorough, whoever they were."

"They don't know who did it?"

Wood shook his head. "They found him not far from their house entrance this morning. Looks like he was out late, the last one back. They're pretty sure he lay there all night."

"Whoa!" said Ron. "Never thought I'd feel bad for Malfoy."

Neither did Harry. The only consolation was the certainty it hadn't been a youma. Wrong M.O. Though that did beg the question, would one of Luna's Clow cards be able, or inclined, to do something like that. They'd certainly worked 'him' over every time he'd come across them.

"So, we're playing Hufflepuff," said Harry.

Wood nodded.

"Bollocks." The seeker for Hufflepuff was an older, larger boy named Diggory. Normally being small and light was an advantage to a seeker, but Saturday was looking to be bad weather, very bad. High winds, torrential rain; nothing that would actually stop the game, but more than enough to drastically change the dynamics.

"He's bigger, heavier than you. That will give him the advantage," Wood said, which Harry already knew.

"Yeah, but he's riding an old Cleansweep," said Fred.

"He's got nothing on Harry's Nimbus," agreed George.

They were trying to sound positive, but he could tell they were nervous; so was he. It was one thing to go out and beat Slytherin; there was motivation, a driving force that allowed one to overcome all obstacles, no matter how absurd.

Hufflepuff though; he had nothing against Hufflepuff or Diggory. Without that motivation, the weather would be that much harder to deal with.

"Our best bet is to make the game as short as possible," said Wood. "That's on you Harry. Find the snitch before Diggory. Whatever you have to do."

"No pressure," said Fred.

"What a bloody mess," said Ron, flopping into the nearest chair. "Who you think did him then."

"Who knows," said Harry. He didn't, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"I mean, if it was somebody in Gryffindor, you'd think we'd know about it."

"Why would somebody in Gryffindor beat up Draco? He's annoying but that's hardly enough reason to beat him."

"Be honest mate, if you got the chance, you'd think about it, wouldn't you?"

Would he? "Spose I would. But Pomphrey said whoever did it knew what they were doing."

"Counts us out then. I've wrestled with Fred and George before but, never hurt anybody, not like that. Who ya think did it?"

Harry shrugged, but to himself he was thinking 'not who, but what'. He wouldn't go looking for it, there wasn't time, and he was being watched. He'd just have to hope that Luna, the girl, or Hermione, also the girl, got to it before it hurt anyone else that didn't deserve it, whatever it was. In the meantime, he had homework.

"So, you want to start with Transfiguration, or Charms?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Hermione?" said Ron, looking for a good excuse to do neither.

"You want to be here all night." If they waited for the time traveler, all night might be optimistic.

"Charms then. Maybe she'll check it over when she finally shows up."

"I wouldn't count on it Ron," not with how much of her own work she had to do. "I really, really wouldn't."

...

Announcement

...

Just real quick.

We're doing a NaNoWriMo in May. One new chapter ever day for thirty one days. Come check it out starting Friday. Book of Shadows. Be there, or be a four sided equilateral.


	18. Chapter 18

Card the moon

Chapter 18 – Thunder and Fear

…

The winds rose steadily through the night from foul to gale. Harry lay awake, staring at the canopy of his bed, listening. Fickle sleep had abandoned him in his hour of need and try as he might, she would not be found.

"This is a sign. I know it is." Who said he had no inner eye?

He crawled out of bed sometime around three; tiring of his fruitless efforts; dressing, he went down to the common room.

Luna sat on a coffee table fiddling with something muggle looking. She looked up, startled, till she saw it was him. "Why're you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep. What're you doing?"

"Failing."

Now, it is scientifically proven fact that everything is funny at three in the morning, so we can forgive Harry for laughing, even though it wasn't that funny.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you've got a big hammer."

Okay, that one was kinda funny.

"So, what is it?" he asked, flopping into the nearest chair.

"It's supposed to be a communicator," she said, glaring sourly at the device. "I was trying to contact—oh, whatshisname, wherever he is."

"I see those memory holes aren't filling in."

The cat shook her head, "I should be grateful I haven't developed anymore."

"Kinda wish I could have a few."

The cat looked at him quizzically, but he made no attempt to elaborate. How could he tell her, when the dementor had come, the scream he'd hear was his mother's.

He wasn't sure at first, but he'd had ample time to think about it. More than ample time to wish he could forget it; the only real memory of either his parents; his mother begging for his life the moment before she was murdered.

Fate had a twisted sense of humor. Destiny totally agreed with that.

A flash of lightning lit the night and the following thunderclap shook the tower. "My goodness!" the cat exclaimed. "What beastly weather."

"That's a good word for it," it raged like an angry beast.

"And you're still going to play this, broomstick game of yours? In this?"

Harry nodded, slowly. He wasn't keen on the weather, but it'd take more than a hurricane to stop a game of Quidditch.

"Well, have fun with that. It was nice knowing you."

Harry smiled, remembering Hermione saying something similar but a few hours prior. "Going to come watch my ultimate demise?" There he went, tempting fate again.

"In fact, I will not. I plan to use the opportunity to search the castle for clues to how and where these youma are getting in."

"Watch out for rogue Clow cards," he joked, sort of.

"Don't you worry about that," she said mysteriously, like a typical cat.

…

Luna evacuated the common room when the rest of the team wandered down, far earlier than they normally would have. None looked surprised to see him there already. They didn't look much of anything really. Funeral parties had more life in them than the Gryffindor Quidditch team that morning.

They sat around the common room till breakfast, which none of them did more than pick at. Wood's usual speech in the locker room never came, something they would have been glad for if it didn't mean they had to go out and play.

But the weather wouldn't stop Quidditch, the game would go on. The stands were packed as they always were, and Harry couldn't help an uncomplimentary thought on the sanity of the people watching them. He had to be there, they didn't.

"Bloody nutters," he grumbled.

"Them or us?" asked George, standing on his left.

After thinking for a moment, "Both," he decided.

"Just find the snitch Harry," said Wood. "I don't even care if we win. Just find the snitch so we can be done."

Such a statement from Quidditch mad Oliver Wood; he never thought he'd see the day.

The wind howled fierce and loud as they stepped out and were immediately drenched. The Hufflepuff team looked no better as they approached, and Madam Hooch ordered them into the air. They all wobbled a bit as the wind tried to take them; Harry in particular felt its grip most solid, but he clung to his broom and was off like a shot the moment Madam Hooch threw up the quaffle.

He circled the pitch like a starving hawk, awaiting the next bolt of lightning to illuminate the arena and give him a glimpse of the snitch. This was complicated by his glasses which were not resistant to the rain and were very nearly useless because of it.

The situation improved when Hermione put what she called an Impervious charm on them, but it only allowed him to see. It didn't change the fact he was hunting for a tiny ball in the pitch-black pouring rain.

He kept circling. He could have no idea what was going on with the rest of the game and by the sound of Lee Jordan, he wasn't so sure either.

He was starting to lose hope when he saw something that nearly stopped his heart. At the edge of the pitch, it sat watching. Big, black, invisible in the darkness but for the flash that lit the world a brief instant. When the light was gone, it too vanished but there was no denying it was there.

But something else was there too. Before the light fled, there was the tiniest glint. Fears warred in his head but Diggory had no such quandary and had seen the snitch as well. He shot after the elusive golden ball.

A moment's hesitation; should he? Of course, he should, it was Quidditch.

Diggory saw Harry coming and poured on the speed. His broom was clearly the inferior, but the wind was against them, and his larger size gave him an edge. Harry pushed his broom for all it was worth, pulling even with the Hufflepuff seeker.

The snitch zipped and zagged, sensing their pursuit. It went low, then shot straight up, heading for the clouds. His broom came through for him, pulling a turn the Hufflepuff couldn't match and Harry took the lead, set to catch the snitch as it shot into the sky.

Then it happened, he heard it, his mother's scream.

"No, not Harry! Please! Not Harry!"

He saw them coming in a flash of lightning, their black cloaks whipping savagely in the wind. They were all in the clouds, the dementors nearly on him when he saw it. The beast. A monstrous creature of pure light. It looked at him. He stared back till the cloaks blocked off his view and he was falling.

Desperation took over, a single hand reached out and he screamed into the storm, "THUNDER!"

There was a pause, a long moment when nothing seemed to happen, then the dementors exploded as lightning surged to his hand and tore through everything within a hundred feet.

Freed of the dementors, did not however change the fact that he was falling, and even if he'd been carrying his wand, everything up to that point had drained him entirely. He blacked out as his body plummeted earthward.


	19. Chapter 19

Card the moon

Chapter 19 – It's – not so bad

…

He wasn't dead. He knew he wasn't dead because it hurt. He wasn't certain what 'it' was, but he was pretty sure it was him. Had to be. Wouldn't be feeling 'it' were it someone else.

That's philosophy.

The world went from black to white, then back to black, then white again; someone whacked the box but all that got them was static.

"I'm blind!" Wait, that wasn't new.

"No need to be so dramatic Mr. Potter."

A weight was gently placed on his nose and the antenna caught a signal. The program tuned in, Poppy Pomphrey M.W. (that's Medi-Witch for the uninitiated.)

So, he was in the hospital wing again. That was good, he was thinking it was well past time for a visit.

"How do you feel Mr. Potter?"

"With my hands," flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Why does my everything hurt?"

She'd started waving her wand before the question had finished asking. She worked fast, that Poppy Pomphrey. "From what I was told you were attacked by those 'things', then struck by lightning, and finally fell a very great distance. You're lucky the headmaster was able to cushion your fall, or you'd have gone splat, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Sounded about right; the dementors and the lightning and the falling anyway. He remembered those. He blacked out before the Dumbledore, but like she said, splat.

"So, who won the game?"

The answer to that question came from his friends; their faces said it all.

"No one blames you," was a terrible opener, but that's how Hermione chose to go.

"Dumbledore was furious," said Ron. "Never seen him so mad."

It hadn't just been the field the dementors rushed, but the stands as well. The whole student body was attacked. Apparently, he cast some sort of light spell that drove them all off but by that time the damage had been done. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, except him.

"Just too bad Malfoy wasn't there," Draco hadn't been cleared to leave till the day after the match. Harry had been asleep for three days and missed it. Thank Merlin.

"So Diggory got the snitch?"

"Like a minute after you were attacked. He offered to forfeit the match, but Wood said no. He caught the snitch fair and square. Not fair to punish Hufflepuff for the dementors."

So, they were in last place. "Did anyone see what happened to my broom?"

"Uh…"

"Well…"

Oh no. "What happened?"

A sack was produced; within, the sad remains of his Nimbus 2000.

"The wind took it when you dropped and—threw it, into the—the Whomping willow," Ron choked out as Harry stared woodenly at the shattered remains.

"Can—can it be fixed?"

"Oh Harry," cried Hermione, wrapping him in a big hug.

"Guess not."

"Sorry mate."

He wasn't the only one. The rest of the team was nearly as devastated by the loss as he was. Wood tried to put on a brave face; they could still win the cup, if Ravenclaw clobbered Hufflepuff, and Slytherin didn't manage too big a win. They had a chance.

He looked almost as brittle as Harry felt, trying to hold onto that impossible hope. It made him feel a bit better if only by comparison.

The team wasn't long before Madam Pomphrey returned to shoo them out and force some noxious concoction down his throat that put him under once more.

When he woke next it was dark, he knew this because the static had changed colors. He thought about going back to sleep, but something was nagging at him. After a moment he realized it was not nagging but pawing at him.

"What?"

"Ah, good, you're awake."

"Luna?"

"Yes?" said a different voice.

Someone smacked his glasses onto his face and things came into focus. "That better?" Plush, sassy focus.

"Hello Squeaky."

"You are so lucky you're already injured, or I'd kick your butt."

"You concern is touching."

"Well I'm concerned," said Luna, the cat. "I thought you were dead."

"I was concerned too," said Luna, not the cat, "that's why I brought pudding."

"And that is why you are my favorite Luna tonight."

"Yay!"

"No! Harry! Love me!"

She could plead all she wanted but pudding trumped all; or anything else that would get the horrible taste out of his mouth.

"How did you three get in here anyway?" he asked, taking the offered pudding over the protesting cat.

"Through the wall," said Luna, showing him a card with the name, THROUGH, printed on it.

"Hmm, handy." He could think of a few times it would have been nice to have.

"Oh, that reminds me," another card was produced, and Harry's spoon stopped halfway to his mouth when he saw the creature it portrayed.

"That's…"

"The raiju," said the plushy.

"I found him after the attack, he was wandering around by the forest looking lost," said Luna, the girl. "I think he's the one that attacked you—and the dementors."

"No," said Harry, "he didn't attack me. I saw him. I called him. He saved me."

The cat and the plushy stared at this revelation, worry and confusion evident. The girl just smiled, "Well that was sweet of him."

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asked.

"Why can I call them. Every time I've come across one of these their name has just popped into my head. Does it work that way for you?"

The blonde head shook, "Kero knows all of them, he tells me."

"And you use that 'staff' to put them back into the cards. That's special, isn't it."

"The sealing staff," said 'Kero', who he called Squeaky. "It's the only way to return them to card form."

"Then why can I do it without?"

"Yeah, why can you?" said the plushy suspiciously.

"Maybe your related to Clow Reed," offered Luna, the girl.

"Who?"

"Clow Reed," Kero said seriously, "was a half Chinese half English wizard who lived a hundred years ago. He created the Clow cards and charged myself and one other to guard them."

"One other? You already told me you were the guardian…"

"And you teased me about it!" the plushy cried.

Yes, he had, "Who's the other one then?"

"Yue."

"Where's he then?"

Kero shrugged. "Haven't seen him since the book was sealed, but he'll be around. He was always kind of, aloof. Each of us holds dominion over half the cards. Until Luna captures all my cards I'm stuck in this form."

"This form? You mean you're not always a squeaky?"

It was immature to keep teasing him, but it was really his own fault for getting so hilariously upset.

"Just you wait. When Luna has all my cards you'll see," the plushy pouted.

"Well fine," said Harry, letting the matter lie, "but none of that explains why I can seal them, or why I know their names."

And try as they might, they couldn't think of any good reason he should. Luna, once again, the girl, was the only one with anything to offer, "Maybe it's foresight."

"What's foresight."

"It's a sort of divination."

"Ugh!" just what he needed.

"It's possible," said Luna, misunderstanding why he was upset. "Lots of people have been known to have it to some small level. It usually only works in moments of great stress, like when you're in danger."

"Then why didn't it happen last year when I was fighting that basilisk," that was pretty damn stressful.

"You fought a basilisk?"

"Yeah right," said Kero.

So that's how it was going to be, huh?

It may have been foolish to tell them the story. There were a lot of very incriminating moments, particularly with the invisibility cloak, like the fact he had an invisibility cloak. Still, the words came and the three of them sat there enraptured as he told the story as he remembered it, from his first meeting with Dobby to his last and everything in between.

Luna, the cat, had gotten the abridge version from Hermione but she had not been around for all of it, and only he had been present for the battle with the basilisk and the memory of the boy who would become the most feared dark lord of the age.

The other Luna was more interested, if you could believe it, in the house elf.

"It's very strange he should have done that," she said. "Servitude is an important part of an elf's magic. I can understand him wanting to escape Uncle Lucius, but free. That doesn't make sense to me."

He hadn't really thought about it, not knowing anything about house elves, but thoughts of Dobby and his oddities were shoved to one side in favor of, "Did you say Uncle Lucius?"

"Did I?" Ponder, ponder, "Why yes I did."

"Are you seriously telling me Lucius Malfoy is your uncle?"

"Mummy was a Malfoy," she offered helpfully. "They didn't approve of the marriage of course."

While that was certainly interesting, it didn't answer the more important question, "That means your Draco's cousin."

She nodded.

"Does he know?"

"I think he likes to pretend he doesn't."

"What a prat," was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said about Draco Malfoy.

The conversation carried on a bit longer, but a big yawn from the big-eyed blonde had the feline deciding visiting hours were over.

Harry watched Luna conjure a hole in the wall with her THROUGH card, which was awfully flashy for just a hole in the wall. And before she climbed through, she took the THUNDER card, and placed it in his hands.

"What's this?"

"I think he was looking for you," she said.

Could be, he had called to it. "But I thought you wanted all these."

"I do," she said. "And I'll have them, someday."

"Someday, huh?"

"You don't trust me," she said flatly. "It's okay, you don't have to lie," she cut him off. "It's my duty to capture all the cards, and I will. But until I've got the others, I think he'll be safe with you."

She smiled at his suspicion look; it made him want to swat her bottom (though he couldn't explain exactly why).

"And what if I decide I don't want to give them to you?" they'd saved his life more than once; why would he give that up.

"I think you will," she said. "I trust you."

That made him flinch, "Low blow Miss Lovegood."

Her next one was even lower; with surprising quickness her lips were pressed against his cheek, and just as quickly she was gone, and he was only then realizing what had happened.

"Smooth," the present Luna commented as he stared blankly, one hand raised to touch his cheek.

It was fair to say he'd little experience with physical affection, or any other kind for that matter. A Hermione hug was rare and though Mrs. Weasley had given him a hug once, neither of those things quite compared to what he'd just been given. It was—he honestly didn't know what it was, but he was sure it was making it bloody hard to think.

In an attempt to make sense of it all he rewound the conversation, returning to the bit about Dobby, elves, and servitude. He hadn't bothered to even think about Dobby since the end of second year. It seemed odd to do so now and he couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of those big weepy eyes and silly bat ears.

In retrospect, he really wasn't so bad. He meant well, just needed to work on his execution.

"Dobby," he chuckled, till he didn't.

"Greatest master is calling for his Dobby?"

"Huh?" Oh, bloody hell.


	20. Chapter 20

Card the moon

Chapter 20 – Mommy, where do house elves come from

…

Rules, they say, are meant to be broken. A bit of good advice; don't be there to take credit when someone comes to see the damage.

Harry knew this very well. He wasn't out of the hospital wing a full day and he was already breaking the rules. Curfew was not, as some seemed to think, just a friendly suggestion. That's why he was under the invisibility cloak.

He had to do it. He had to know. Ignorance had been his greatest enemy the last time he'd been involved with Dobby. He wouldn't let it happen again.

What Dobby had tried to tell him—heads or tails could not be made; it was all arms and legs with something like a torso in the middle; something like. He had an elf, that was all he understood.

Dobby was his elf, had been since the whole ordeal with Lucius Malfoy. Funny how he didn't remember any of that. Less funny to find out it was by his own request. But why, why did he have an elf, why couldn't he remember.

"Why can't I ever have a nice, quiet year at Hogwarts?"

It just didn't seem fair. Other people got to have nice and quiet. But he was Harry Potter, he didn't get nice or quiet, he got bangbangbang wake up boy, under the staircase.

He also got skulking through the halls in the middle of the night under an invisibility cloak; the adventure never ended. Maybe it could just, go on holiday for a bit… he could dream.

Pausing to allow a passing ghost, Harry made his way down to an unfamiliar part of the castle, and a large portrait, of fruit.

"This must be it," and there was the pear, just like he'd been told.

Tickling the pear till it squealed and turned into a banana, (and tell me that doesn't sound like a dirty joke) he snuck inside the Hogwarts kitchen.

"Whoa!"

It was an impressive sight; bigger than any kitchen he'd ever seen. Pots and pans floated everywhere over sinks and stoves that lined the walls and abutted tables. The smell that permeated the air could only be described as 'food'; trying to be more specific would have left even the best trained nose confounded.

And scampering across the meticulously swept floor, house elves; dozens of house elves.

"Great Harry Potter sir has come!"

Including his. "Hello Dobby," he said, sliding off his cloak. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Dobby does not need to see master to know where he is," said the elf, tapping one overlarge ear.

"Ah," so maybe Snape was right when he said Harry breathed too loud—or not. "Alright, I'm here. Now what?"

When they'd spoken in the hospital wing all Dobby had told him was come to the kitchen, followed by the directions to get him there.

The excitable elf gestured with his overlarge hand, "Come Great Harry Potter sir. He is expecting you."

'Who?' he wanted to ask, but Dobby had vanished before he could, forcing him to chase after.

It was a strange chase, the strangest of his life so far. The kitchen was longer than he'd originally thought and filled with such cooking contrivances as he'd never thought he would see.

Not merely every type of stove and oven ever conceived but numerous spits roasting whole pigs, smoke huts filled with fowl. Every manner of cooking every come up with was present and in use. It was like walking through culinary history.

He caught up to Dobby by a small camping type fire at the very end, sitting on his knees to the left of a small log where perched a very old elf.

At least, Harry assumed he was old. He had that aura of years, and the deference being paid by Dobby suggest one with the status of elder.

Lowering himself, he mirrored Dobby's position and waited.

"Long has it been, since last a wizard has come before me," the old elf groaned like antique wood. Starting slowly, he gained speed as he continued to speak, "I might have known it would be you, Harry James Potter."

"You know me?" And why not, everyone else did.

"I have long ears," the elf grinned. "In Hogwarts and beyond your name is spoken. With reverence, respect, yes, but also disdain and loathing. So much I have heard, hard to know from this, what to think."

The elf gestured Harry forward and Harry leaned up off his calves. The gesturing hand struck like a serpent, gripping his face before he could blink. A rush of energy raised every hair across his body as it raced through him.

He slumped back panting, heart still running the Kentucky derby though freed from the iron magical grip. "Woah!"

"Very interesting," the old elf said.

"What's—that?" asked Harry.

"You," the elf smiled, like another mysterious old man he knew. "I am glad you have come. I have not seen your like in a very long time. Yes, a very long time indeed."

Whatever that meant, crazy old elf. "So, can you explain what's going on. Why is Dobby 'my' elf, I mean, why does he need to be 'my' elf, or anyone's elf?"

"Not a question most would ask when they discovered they had a powerful magical servant," the old elf observed. "But before that, I believe a proper introduction. If we are to be friends, this only seems appropriate."

"Well, yeah I suppose," but how did we get from there to here?

The elf seemed to know something of his thoughts because the smile he turned at Harry was quite impish. "For purposes of simplicity, you may call me Lore. Throughout my life I've had many masters, and many names. They are all passed, but I remain, the Master of Lore for my people. One of only three in all the world."

"That's, amazing," even without knowing just how many elves there were, only three in the whole world, he couldn't help but be impressed.

"It has been my sworn duty this past century to be the book that holds my people's history. We have no written language of our own, and we would not trust our history to the runes of men. Too many would use them against us if they could, if they knew."

"Knew what?" asked Harry.

"If they knew what we were, for not a man alive today remembers. They know the name Hobgoblin, but they have no understanding what they truly were. What they truly are. This, I would tell you Harry Potter, if you would hear it."

Harry nodded, trying to contain his excitement.

"Then listen well, for it is an old story, older than the kingdom of these Isles, or any that stands on the continent. Nearly fifteen hundred years ago, the world was very different, and likewise the people in it. In those times centaurs ran the open plains, giants trudged the valleys and mountains and goblins lurked the woods and other dark places as was suitable to their nature.

"This was a time before wizard society. Before magic was hidden away from the world. It was a wilder time, and magic reflected that wildness. Wild and powerful, it flowed like water, like the wind it moved without ceasing, feeding the land, making it magical.

"In those times wizards were fewer. Sometimes they came among the goblins, the giants and centaurs; they came to learn their ways, the magics they practiced. They were a bridge between, human in shape but magic in nature. They could often be relied on to mediate. They were no enemy of ours.

"But, as always happens, peace does not last. The goblins, who were always ambitious, went to war with the humans. For what reason we no longer know. It was a goblin rebellion before goblin rebellions as there were no treaties in that time for the goblins to rebel against.

"The goblins were skilled, but the humans were strong and even without magic could be trained to kill with little time. In desperation, the goblins turned to their cousins, the Hobgoblins, for aid. It was a hard choice. Hobgoblins while pranksters by nature were not malicious, they'd no interest in conquest or war.

"But the goblins plead, 'they will slaughter us all'. And so, reluctantly, they agreed. It was the worst mistake they ever made.

"Though they had agreed to help, they could not bring themselves to commit murder and limited themselves to espionage and general mischief. It slowed the humans down, but it did not stop them.

"A time came when surrender was the only option. They were told if they did not there would be a pogrom, they would be hunted to the last, however long it took. They surrendered, but this was not enough.

"While the goblins were simply exiled from the land, the humans knew this would not work on Hob-goblins. Their magic was too strong. If they wished to return, humans would never know. So, an alternative was devised. They would stay, but they would be bound. This was accomplished by a powerful ritual with a newborn Hob-goblin as the focal point.

"It changed them, twisting their magic. Without a solid anchor, it would slowly eat away at them till they died. Wizards could provide such an anchor if the Hog-goblin would willingly subordinate themselves. And so, it went. They who had once been helpful pranksters, took their first steps into becoming servile wretches.

"As time passed, language and culture changed; the small helpful creatures some wizards kept as servants changed as well. Two hundred years ago one such change led to a, rebranding you could say. As numerous goblin rebellions had garnered their instigators a reputation it became impossible for wizards to see their servants as anything like their vicious enemy.

"Elves, they decided. Elves of the house, which would eventually become house elves. And so, we return to today, when a house elf disobeyed his master, to warn a young man of great danger to his life, showing more will than I have seen in an elf since the term was coined."

"Did you—I mean, are you really 'that' old?" Harry asked, trying not to gape.

The elf chuckled, "No. I was but a child when they named us elf; and the Lore master who passed the duty on to me was only four hundred years old. We have very good memories though. It is why we have no need for a written language."

"Amazing," and informative. "So, Dobby 'bonded' to me, because he needed to?"

"No Great Harry Potter sirs," said Dobby. "Dobby bonded Great Harry Potter sirs because he wanted to."

"But, why did I say yes?" he asked. "I mean, without knowing all this the whole thing just sounds like slavery," which it was, even if it was necessary. "I'd never do that, I don't think," he added without thinking, as usually happens when being truly honest.

"Dobby was most emphatic," the elf said. "Great Harry Potter sirs did not want to. Dobby was having to beg. Does not want to abuse Dobby, Great Harry Potter said. Truly he is greatest among wizards thought Dobby, but is making whole thing difficult. So, Dobby is bringing Great Harry Potter sirs to Master Lore."

"It was an interesting meeting."

"Wait!" exclaimed Harry. "You mean I've met you before?"

"Which you do not remember," said Lore. "As was your desire. If you did not know you had an elf at your command, you could not abuse him, or so the reasoning went."

Well, yeah that was certainly true. "And you erased yourself from my memory so I wouldn't wonder."

"Very good, yes. Although I knew it wouldn't last. Eventually you would find out. You would say his name and he would come and here we are."

"Here we are." Where that was exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was definitely there.

"Great Harry Potter sirs is not angry?"

Oh, that's where he was, being looked at by an elf who greatly resembled a kicked puppy. "No Dobby, I'm not mad."

"Dobby is glad. Dobby thought he would have to punish himself again."

Oh no, we are not having that. "Dobby, I may not be mad, but I would like to make something perfectly clear with you right now. Are you listening?"

The elf nodded with big frightened eyes.

"You are never, and I repeat, never, to punish yourself, for any reason, ever again. Do you understand?"

"But," he protested with quivering lip, "what if Dobby is not pleasing Great Harry Potter sirs. What if Dobby—what if Dobby speaks ill of Great Harry Potter sirs."

"Not even then."

"But…"

The elf went silent when Harry grasped his wringing hands and stared hard into his massive eyes. "Dobby. No. If it really bothers you that much, you will come and tell me, and we can talk about it. And that goes for anything. But I will not have you abusing yourself. That is not how friends treat each other."

"Fu—friends."

It felt like his mouth might be getting him into trouble again, but it was too late to stop now, "Yes Dobby, friends. I'm not mad about what happened. It's not like you knew where the basilisk was. In a strange way you did help me last year, in a very roundabout way."

The elf smiled at the half-hearted praise. It was the thought that counted.

"Great Harry Potter sirs is truly greatest among wizards."

"Uh, yeah, Dobby. Could we maybe cut out the Great Harry Potter? Kind of a mouthful don't ya think. How bout we try just Harry."

The elf beamed, "Just Harry sirs."

Lore chortled as Harry hung his head, "I see that prankster streak isn't totally gone," the young wizard observed.

"Hmm, yes, indeed," agreed Lore. "But more importantly, what is this about a basilisk?"

"Oh, that was Slytherin's monster. It's still down in the Chamber of secrets—dead of course."

"You've been to the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Uh, yes," said Harry, cautiously uncertain of the elf's enthusiasm.

"Well now that is quite a story. Could you show it too me?"

"What? You mean now?"

Reaching behind him, a gnarled staff flew into his hand before he turned back to Harry with a face that radiated childlike glee, "Yes, please."


	21. Chapter 21

Card the moon

Chapter 21 – This is the library, shhh

…

"Get back her you little tart!"

"Who're you calling a—YIPE!"

It was true the skirt she was wearing was a bit shorter than she would have liked; it was true the bodysuit clung tighter than was proper, and all the bows and frills were just a bit—much. All that aside, it didn't make her a tart and she was greatly offended at such disparaging of her character.

Where this particular youma got off making remarks at her while looking like a cat girl fetish doll (yes, she knew what that was, don't ask why) was simply beyond her fathom. It was like the pot trying to call the kettle black, but the kettle was a teacup.

"Stop running tramp. Hasn't anyone told you not to run in the library?"

"Then why are you doing it? And stop calling me names!"

It hadn't started in the library, but after getting swatted around by the much faster youma, a strategic retreat had been required. She hadn't really been paying attention to where she was running, more concerned with the nasty claws that kept swiping at her to realize she was headed for the library, by pure instinct; no, she did not have a problem, shut up!

"Get back here!"

Dodging down the aisles Sailor Moon ignored the command. Going back would mean fighting, which would mean losing.

She needed a plan, a scheme, a trick—let's be honest, she needed a miracle.

What she got was a dead end, "Oh, shoot!"

She'd run herself into a corner, curse her inattentive feet.

"Well, well," the youma chortled, sauntering down the aisle that was her only means of egress. "Done running then?"

"You think yuyuyou've got me, but you've fallen right into my trap," the Sailor scout bluffed, badly.

She knew it was badly because the youma gave her 'the eye', "Really?" Incredulity turned all the way up.

"Yeye—yes?" should never be spoken as a question.

"Okay, if you're going to insult my intelligence, I'm just gonna rip you apart," she said, crouching low, striking her claws like flints. "GET SOME!"

"Shhhhh!"

"Don't shush me ya—wait, what the? How did we get here?"

Hermione could only blink in agreement. She was almost certain she'd just been cornered in the library. How did they get out in the hall again?

Her mind boggled, but she had more practice at this than the youma. Boggling was put on hold in favor of throwing her tiara.

"Huh! Wait! What the—waaaaaaaagh!"

"Moon dusted." *flinch* "So glad Luna wasn't around to hear that, or that bit earlier."

Damn you ghost of Shakespeare! She'd leave that part out when she told Luna what happened.

…

"She just 'vanished' from the library?"

"That is how she described it."

"She must have been so upset."

"Harry!" The cat tried to scowl but it was lost behind her chuckling.

"At least we can rule out youma on this one."

"Agreed. As much as I would love to see them trying to sabotage one another, I can't believe we're that lucky."

Neither could Harry. He didn't have that kind of luck. He had the kind of luck that saw him in dark hidden places in the middle of the night at the behest of an excitable old elf.

He hadn't really wanted to visit the chamber; stare once again at the beast that nearly killed him. The only plus to the whole escapade was getting to try out his new favorite card, FLY. It was just too bad he wouldn't be able to use it for Quidditch.

"So, what are we thinking?"

"Find it, catch it, go to bed."

"I like this plan," nice and simple.

"I like it too."

It wasn't typically in Harry's nature to jump like a startled cat, but it was, in those moments, when girls appear out of nowhere to be standing right next to you, that every man discovers the feline within.

"Oh my, did I startle you?"

"No, no, my heart always beats this fast," like a jackrabbit on speed.

"I'm not entirely sure that's healthy," the girl observed innocently.

"He's just happy to see you," the cat teased.

"Hush you," said Harry, pretending he wasn't embarrassed and the girl in front of him hadn't gone pink in the cheeks.

It wasn't that he 'disliked' her. He didn't really know what to think of her, and after her visit in the hospital wing and the… kiss… he really didn't know what to think which left him trying not to think; harder than it sounds.

"We gonna stand here all night or are we going in?" a high-pitched voice interrupted.

"That is why we are here," said Luna, the cat.

"Is it? We?" News to him.

"Well, they are the experts on these cards. I thought it made sense."

It probably did, but it would have been nice if she'd told him first.

Luna, the girl, looked at him with moist glistening eyes, invading his bubble to pose the question, "Won't you help me Harry, please?" with lower lip quavering.

He was being had, there was no getting around it, and no getting away from it. The only thing to do was hang his head in defeat and allow himself to be led into the library to the sound of cackling; one cat, one plushy.

"I've never been in here after dark," Luna commented as they strolled between the shelves.

"I have," for all the good it did him.

"Do you suppose the books talk to each other at night?"

Huh? "Why would they do that?"

"They are all full of words. They have to let them out sometime."

"I'm not sure that's right," but then again, with magic who could be sure.

"Are you certain you know where the card is," Kero asked as he floated just over Luna, the cat.

"No," said the cat. "I just know it's in a corner. She went right from the door so that only gives us two options. My moneys on the farthest corner."

If only she gambled, she could have made some money. The card sat in a large frame, strange for a Hogwarts portrait as it was perfectly still, just a mundane painting of a mysterious women, to the uninitiated.

"Okay, we found her, now how do we catch her?" asked Harry.

The card had transported Hermione and a youma clear out of the library without either noticing till it was too late.

"The SILENCE card, she hates noise of any kind. We need to be very quiet," said Kero.

"How very quiet?" The plushy stared at the girl who looked back innocently, "what?"

"Very quiet," he repeated.

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"Grr—JUST BE QUIET!"

"Shhhh!"

The group had just enough time to register the shush before the world went all wavy, and they were out in the hall.

"Well, that's one way to do it," said the cat.

"Way to go, Squeaky," said not the cat.

"Was that very quiet?" said also not the cat.

"Ugh!" groaned very not the cat.

… 2nd attempt

"Alright, very quietly… and no more out of you," he preempted before the girl could restart the comedy routine.

Stealthily, the quartet crept, quiet as dormice, but less immune to the dust.

"Ha, ha, hachoo!"

"Shhhhh!"

(wavywavywavy and—back in the hall)

"Luna!" the cat.

"Sorry."

… 3rd attempt

He waited patiently; the foot was almost there. Wait for it, wait for it… NOW! The invisible dust bunny leapt, snagging the foot and Harry went loudly crashing to the ground.

"Shhhhh!"

(wavywavywavy and—back in the hall, again)

"Stupid, smirking, dust bunny," Harry grumbled.

… and, once more

Luna stood before the portrait; magical rod poised to begin the incantation. The others stood back; buttholes puckered in anticipation. The card captor opened her mouth, took a single deep breath…

"Shhhhh!"

"Oh, come on!"

(wavywavywavy[unicorn] and—back out in the hall)

"Well, that was just…" Luna petulantly pouted.

"Yeah, just," so close.

"Harry, I think I've discovered a hole in our plan."

"Would that be the hole where all the words should be before we get banished out into the hall?"

"Yes, that is exactly the one."

"Thought so."

"So, what now?" asked the cat.

"Does 'the guardian' have any brilliant insights?'

'The guardian' did not, just very mobile shoulders.

"Well, what're we gonna do?" said the cat.

"Mrow," said the other cat.

"Now what would that do?" said Luna.

"Shit! It's Mrs. Norris," said Harry.

"Hmm, well yes, why is that a problem?" wondered Luna, the cat.

"I think what Harry means is, if she's here, her human won't be far behind," explained Luna, the girl.

"Oooooh."

"Mrs. Norris!"

"See."

"Oh, yes, that could be a problem."

It could be a lot more than that, Harry thought. Filch was hard enough to deal with at the best of times. There was no way Harry wanted to explain what he was doing out now.

"Come on!" he shouted, quietly, grabbing Luna by the hand and dashing back into the library with the others hot on his heels.

He had a sense of déjà vu, running through the library, dodging Filch. Unlike that time, he was a little bit wiser, and a little bit better prepared.

"Mrs. Norris? Where are you my love? Are there naughty students about? Mrs. Norris?"

Harry exhaled slowly as Filch moved on out of earshot.

It was very uncomfortable hiding under the invisibility cloak, he was getting too tall. He'd positioned himself against a bookshelf, so his feet snuck underneath. Luna was there too, between him and the bookshelf. Close, painfully, intimately close.

"Harry," she whispered, squirming against him.

"Yes," he whispered back, trying not to react to her squirming.

"He's gone."

"He'll be back," Filch was relentless.

"I have an idea, but I need your help."

"What is it?"

"Well…"

… and now, Argus Filch

They were close, he knew they were, he could smell'em.

Okay, so technically he couldn't smell them; his own personal odor tended to overpower all but the most potent scents; the point was, he knew they were there, and he was going to find them.

"I know you're here. Come out, come out."

A sound drew his attention, like a breeze running across the books, or a hand.

"I've got you now!" he snarled menacingly, turning the corner just in time to see a pair of dark shapes making a mad dash for the exit.

"Stop! You here what I said! Stop!"

Thundering after his quarry Argus Filch ran for, and out of the door, chasing the pair of shadows through a dozen halls before realizing, they were gone, if they had ever been there in the first place.

… Meanwhile, back at the library

"That, was, brilliant."

"I really must agree, that was very clever."

"That's my girl. Never doubted for a second."

Luna beamed crimson from her cheeks, unaccustomed to hearing such nice things from people.

"I—I think I know how to seal the card too."

… One last time

"Return to your power, confined. SILENCE!"

The portrait shimmered and glowed and all the other special effects before floating to the ground at the foot of the black silhouette.

"And that's that. Nox," said Harry, dousing the light and banishing the shadow back to its card.

"Not so hard once you figure out the trick to it," said the cat below the floating plushy who nodded sagely.

"Never doubted," he said as Luna retrieved the card.

"That's one more down," she said.

"Which leaves how many more to go, if you don't mind my asking?" said Harry.

"Uh…" said Kero.

"A few," said Luna, the girl.

"Of course," it was really his own fault for expecting anything else.


	22. Chapter 22

Card the moon

Chapter 22 – Time marches on, and on, and on

…

Mornings, as few people realize, were not devised until after man's fall into sin. Toiling for your food isn't so bad, not really. The 'pain' of childbirth, hardly worth writing home about. Mornings though, that was just cruel and unusual and proved for once and for all; god has a sense of humor, because you just know he's laughing at you every single morning, ya clumsy, bumbling, mook.

…

Harry woke; it wasn't because he wanted to, but he'd set his alarm and it was tugging insistently on his foot.

"Harry Potter sirs. Is time to be waking up. Missy talking kitty is waiting for you."

Let her wait, and several other ungenerous thoughts passed through his mind en route to his mouth only to be diverted out his ear at the last second.

"Alright Dobby, I'm up."

"No Harry Potter sirs, you is just awake. You is needing to be getting up so you can have you's run."

The only way to start the day, according to certain evil black felines with too much to say.

"Let's go! Lift those knees!"

Evil, evil feline.

"No pain, no gain! Let's see some hustle!"

Eeeeevil!

"Harry, mate, you need to take it easy. You just got out of the hospital wing."

Try telling that to someone else, he silently cursed into his oatmeal.

It's not that he didn't appreciate the severity of the situation. The youma were lethal dangerous, he'd been lucky thus far, and it was only thanks to Clow card intervention and his ability to sneak attack that he was still alive.

That reality was hard to appreciate when his legs were screaming at him 'you take one more step and we're done buster!' In retrospect, he should have listened.

"No, no, no! I said slice, not dice. Can you not listen Potter? Is your head so overinflated it is stifling your ability to hear!"

"Bloody berk," Ron muttered as Snape stormed out of earshot.

"So what else is new," Harry muttered, looking mournfully at his useless ingredients.

"He's just been on the warpath this year. He's always bad but…"

"Yeah, but," Harry agreed.

"What ya think his problem is?"

"Hemorrhoids?"

Ron snickered at his perfectly reasonable explanation, a little too loud to avoid drawing the beast's attention.

"Ten points from Gryffindor Weasley! If you cannot take this seriously it'll be another ten."

"Greasy git," Ron growled under his breath.

"Lucky we don't have potions every day," said Harry.

"He is the bloody worst!" Ron complained loudly as they left the dungeons.

A general murmur of agreement followed obediently; no one liked Snape and he was not making any friends this year. Even Hermione who usually advocated blind respect for all figures of authority was silent.

A glance over his shoulder revealed this to be because she was gone; off to one of her other classes which she still refused to tell them how she was getting to, which did not stop 'them' from getting to her.

Even with Harry taking as many of the youma as he could, Sailor Moon still had plenty of work, heaped on top of all the other work Hermione was buried under. The girl was working herself into the ground.

Speaking of Sailor Moon, "Mrow."

"Oy! What is that bloody thing want?"

He had a pretty good idea, "You all go ahead," said Harry, picking up the expectantly purring feline, "I'll catch up."

"You know, I don't think he likes me," she said when they were out of earshot.

"And I'm sure you don't tease him ever chance you get."

"Not every chance," she cried, affronted.

"Such admirable restraint."

"It is, isn't it."

"I hope that's not all this is about," he still had class. "How bad is this one."

"It can't hide to save its life," she said. "I have to assume its heavy on combat or their just throwing trash at us to take out for them."

"Hmm, am I that lucky?"

"Probably not."

"Probably not," more like definitely not.

"I think we learned a great deal from that encounter," she said that evening.

"Like new ways to say 'owch'," he'd discovered at least three.

"Among other things. They aren't running out of bruisers, that we can be certain of."

"At least they have one less now," and he had a few dozen new ones.

"I think we'll count that as spell practice for today if that's alright?"

He wasn't about to argue. Groaning his ascent, he proceeded to haul his battered carcass back to Gryffindor tower. Bed was calling, the day was over, and thank Merlin he'd never have to go through it again.

… the next morning

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to wake up."

"Wah? Dobby, I don't have to run this morning," Harry complained.

"Is Wednesday Harry Potter sirs, you is having to run this morning," the elf insisted.

"Wednesday? No, yesterday was Wednesday, wasn't it?"

"Dobby is not thinking so," Dobby said. "Today is Wednesday. Harry Potter sirs is needing to get up for his run. Missy talking kitty is waiting."

Wednesday? No, that couldn't be right. He'd already done this. Hadn't he?

"Let's go! Lift those knees!"

"I've done this already."

"What's that down there? Is that griping I hear?" the evil drill sergeant bellowed.

"Luna, we did this yesterday."

"Yesterday was Tuesday Harry. We don't run on Tuesday. Today is Wednesday."

"No, yesterday was Wednesday, I'm sure of it," at least he was kinda sure.

"No excuses. Knees up! Come on, come on!"

It wasn't an excuse, he'd already done this, hadn't he?

"Is your head so overinflated it is stifling your ability to hear!"

"Bloody berk."

"You said that yesterday."

"Huh?" Ron stared at his friend blankly. "We didn't have potions yesterday."

"We did. I remember. It was exactly this class, I know it was," which he did, almost.

"Whatever you say mate," said Ron, "So, what ya think his problem is?"

Hemorrhoids, snicker too loud, ten points from Gryffindor. He'd already done this. It couldn't have just been his imagination.

"Oy, what is that bloody thing want!"

"You know, I don't think he likes me very much… Harry, are you alright?"

"No," he said, "no I am not. I'm almost certain I have just relived yesterday, and if memory serves, yesterday sucked."

"Really!" It was hard to tell if she believed him. He wasn't sure he believed him, but he was almost entirely sure he'd done all of this the previous day.

"Well, I think we learned a great deal from that encounter."

"Yep, sure did." Second time was no more enjoyable than the first.

"Why don't we call that spell practice for the day."

"You said that already," he mumbled, staggering out the door.

All of it, with the exception of him, was exactly the same. He'd just relived the previous day, now he was sure of it. What he wasn't sure of was why. And given all his fun new bruises, he was in no shape to go investigating. He was barely in a shape to fall into bed.

… the 'next' day

"Harry Potter sirs. Is time to be waking up. Missy talking kitty is waiting for you."

"Dobby, what day is it?"

"It is being Wednesday Harry Potter sirs."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"You want me to what?" the cat asked.

"Check Hermione's time turner. See if there's anything wrong with it."

"Why would you think there's anything wrong with it?"

"Because this is the third morning I've woken up to find that it is Wednesday, the same Wednesday I went to sleep in. Something is going on."

"Yes, well, just a moment then."

The cat scurried up the stairs, leaving Harry to pace the common room for the next ten minutes.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"Seems fine," she said. "Mind you I'm no expert on artifacts, never mind time travel, but there doesn't appear to be anything unusual about it."

"And Hermione didn't say anything about this?"

The cat shook her head. Well, bollocks.

… the 'next' day

"Harry Potter sirs. Is time to be waking up. Missy talking kitty is waiting for you."

"I don't want to wake up," he already knew how this day was going to go and he didn't like it.

He couldn't stay in bed though, if Dobby didn't get him up someone else would. There was exactly zero chance of him just sleeping through whatever was messing with time till it fixed itself.

"Alright, I'm up, I'm up."

Under protest.

"He is the bloody worst," Ron complained to yet another murmur of agreement.

Harry wasn't listening. He'd already checked out; he knew how this day went. It sucked. Five times now it sucked. Why did it have to suck?

And then it hit him. Why did it have to suck? Why, did it have to suck? He knew how it all played out, so why not change it. Sure, there was a limit, but even a little less suck would be nice. There was no reason he had to keep doing the same thing over and over again, that wouldn't change anything, why would he even think it would.

"Harry? Uh mate? You okay?" Ron asked of his madly cackling friend.

"Not really," said Harry, "but you know what. I think I know how to change that. Oh yes. Big change."

"Uh, that's great mate, I think" he mumbled the last part.

"Mrow?"

"Oy, what is that bloody thing want!"


	23. Chapter 23

Card the moon

Chapter 23 – Marching in circles

…

When life has no consequences, you stop asking 'should I do this' and start asking, 'how can I pull this off?'

…

"Does your over inflated head make it difficult for you to hear!"

"Greasy git," Ron grumbled.

"A little less greasy in just a moment," Harry muttered, throwing the last ingredient into the cauldron hidden under his desk and stirring three times clockwise.

"What is that?" his friend asked while discreetly 'not' looking at it.

"Just a little something the help clear up the complexion of our favorite professor," Harry said with an evil grin. "Let me know when he's by the Slytherins."

"Just about, almost… now! He's right by Malfoy, his backs to us."

Taking his stirring rod from the viscous yellow goop he flicked a small bit into the unobserved cauldron near Malfoy before shoving the whole thing well out of sight before the fireworks started.

His timing couldn't have been better. Snape bent over to examine the tainted cauldron when the whole thing exploded right in his face, covering his whole head in a clear gelatinous mass.

Chaos erupted.

All of Slytherin abandoned their cauldrons and surrounded Snape. They didn't actually help though. None of them appeared to have any idea what they should do, and no one was brave enough to be the first.

The gel began to foam and bubble as they dithered till at last it was Daphne Greengrass who took action. Drawing her wand, she blasted the foaming gunk with a watering charm.

This proved both the right and the wrong thing to do. It successfully removed the mass, but it also revealed its effect.

"Oh my!"

"Sweet Merlin!"

"He's—he's!"

Demanding a mirror, he nearly dropped it when he saw, "Where—where is my HAIR!"

This was too much for the chortling Gryffindors. The room exploded in laughter, and Snape exploded in hissing, spitting fury.

"Did you see his face? Merlin what I would have given for a camera," Ron crowed as they fled the dungeon and it's no longer greasy, git.

"You think it'll grow back?" wondered Lavender.

"Eventually," said Harry.

"Not too soon I hope," said Ron.

It'd be back by the next day, Harry knew, because tomorrow would again be today, as it had been for the last ten days. Six of which he'd spent more time in the library than in class, looking for a way to pull that prank off.

Worth it.

"Mrow."

Despite his elation, Ron was still not pleased to see Luna, but Harry was still smiling when he carried her away.

"You're in a chipper mood," she observed.

"Just had a very good potions lesson, that's all."

"That so?" her tone betrayed her skepticism; the stare was just overkill.

Harry just kept grinning. "Even had enough time to whip up a little something for our next encounter," he said, holding up a small vial full of an angry looking red liquid.

"What is that?"

"Just the most powerful explosive you can cook up from the ingredients in the standard potion kit."

It shouldn't have surprised him to find there were honest to Merlin explosive potions, after all, how many cauldrons had he seen exploded just by accident.

"You mind my asking what you're planning to use that on?" the cat queried, squirming worriedly in his arms.

"Where did you say this youma was?"

…

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to get up."

"I know," said Harry.

He'd been through it enough times; he knew the drill. This was where it always started, with Dobby tugging on his foot, telling him it was time to get up. Not the worst way to start the morning, especially with how the last loop had ended.

"Dobby, I learned something yesterday."

"Yes, Harry Potter sirs?"

"If I'm going to play around with explosives, I need to be more aware of their strength, and not be standing right next to them when they go off." That was how the last loop ended.

He was pretty sure he'd gotten the youma, but he was also pretty sure he'd broken several bones, possibly pierced a few vital organs, and learned yet another new way to say 'ouch'. It involved a lot of wheezing and S sounds.

"Perhaps Harry Potter sirs should not be playing with explosives," the elf offered helpfully.

"You think," it wasn't a total disaster; it worked.

But perhaps Dobby was right, there were lots of other ways to destroy a youma or prank a Snape. Though he'd be hard pressed to beat the look on his face after removing all his hair. Hmm.

"Challenge accepted."

…

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know what?"

"I'm sure I don't."

Ron stared at him petulantly, it was a look he did surprisingly well. "Fine, don't tell me then."

"You'll tell me though, right Harry?" asked Lavender, batting her eye lashes and giving him her cutest look.

"Well that's different ain't it."

"Traitor!"

The Gryffindor third year cohort, minus Hermione, laughed at this exclamation. He wouldn't really tell them, not for all the prodding or flirting in the world. It had taken him two weeks to master the spell work, besides, what good would it do them knowing? They'd forget tomorrow today anyway.

"Mrow."

"Hello Luna."

"My but we are chipper," the cat observed, as she so often did. "Care to share."

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all."

"Uh huh, pull the other one," the feline quipped.

"Your tail."

"Not if you want to keep your hands."

He chortled at the idle threat… at least he thought it was idle.

"So, how's that youma."

"Too obvious for my liking. It can't hide to save its life."

"Probably more focused on the fighting then, wouldn't you say."

"I would say as a matter of fact."

"Well, this should be fun then."

"Are you sure you're up to it? I can get Hermione if you think you can't."

"Nonsense, nonsense. You asked me to help you help Hermione, and Harry Potter is no one's coward."

"You know being stupid is not the same as being brave."

"I did not know that, and I still don't."

"What has gotten into you today. When did you become so—silly?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"I don't believe you."

She shouldn't either.

…

"Now that is just—I'm at a loss for words."

"I can think of a few," hilarious for one.

"No more. Please! No more!"

"Oh no, there will be more," Harry cackled madly, after all, wasn't every day he reduced a big bad youma to tears.

"When did you even have time to learn all those spells. I'm certain I've never seen you use that ice spell. And the friction one, and the bumpers."

Through a series of spells, Harry had created a square rink of ice with exactly zero friction, and bumpers on all four sides that kept pushing the youma back every time she got to the edge. It was hilarious to watch as the complete lack of friction made it impossible for her to gain any kind of traction to apply her massive strength to her imprisonment.

"Please! I'm sorry!" the youma wailed.

"Are you ready to talk then?" asked Harry.

Torturing youma was fun and all, but he didn't do it 'just' for giggles.

"I can't," she cried. "They'll kill me."

"And I'll just leave you in here. Which is worse?"

"Please! Please!"

"Whadaya think?"

"She's been like this for ten minutes," said Luna. "Give her another ten. See if she changes her mind."

"Works for me."

"Noooooooooooo!"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeees!"

He'd make her crack, if not in this loop then in the next, or the next. He had time; he'd find a way. He'd been at it five weeks and he finally felt like he was getting the hang of it. He was still a little worried about what was causing it, but that could wait. Literally.

"Ready to talk?"

"Pleeeeeease!"

Harry chortled wickedly, "Take your time. I'm in no rush. I got all the time in the world."


	24. Chapter 24

Card the moon

Chapter 24 – Finding time

…

"But I thought you were having fun looping through time."

Harry looked at Luna and sighed, "I was."

In fact, he'd been having a blast, for a while. The first six weeks had been a riot, finding new ways to prank Snape, new ways to make a big bad youma cry like a little girl. It had been fun.

"So what's the problem?"

"I'm bored."

He could only torment Snape so many times before it got monotonous, apparently. Who knew? And cracking the youma had been a huge disappointment because she didn't know anything.

"We're sure it's the TIME card doing this?"

"Oh yes," Luna nodded. "Kero is quite certain."

"If Kero's so certain then why hasn't he found it yet?"

"Hey, get off my case would ya, I'm trying," the plushy hollered, after wriggling out of Luna's book bag.

"Some guardian."

"It's not his fault Harry," said Luna. "There's so much ambient magic in Hogwarts, it's very hard to find anything if it doesn't want to be found."

"And TIME is under Yue which means I have even less connection to it. So just keep your pants on, we're working on it."

"Not fast enough," said Harry.

The challenge was gone. He'd overcome every obstacle this day could throw at him and he was bored and that was bad. He knew it was bad because he found himself contemplating things, dangerous things, jumping off of towers without a broomstick things.

He'd never contemplated suicide before and it scared him that he was even entertaining the idea, time loop or no.

He needed to find TIME. He needed it to be tomorrow.

"MR. POTTER!"

Though judging by the look of the angry Scot baring down on him, it would have to wait till the next loop.

"Mr. Potter. I have just heard what you did to Professor Snape."

"Yes Ma'am," Hey, just because it was monotonous was no reason to stop doing it.

…

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to get up."

"Of course it is," it was a brand-new loop. "Dobby, I need to talk to Lore."

Dobby gasped at the old elf's name, "No Harry Potter sirs. It is not done. Can's not just talk to the elder."

"I have to."

"No, no, master mustn't. Is not done."

He didn't like to distress the elf, who distressed far too easily, but circumstances demanded action, however distressing it may be.

"Dobby," he whispered harshly, grabbing the elf's wringing hands, "look at me."

With great shame and reluctance, the elf turned his oversized eyes up to his 'great master'.

"Dobby, what day was yesterday?"

"Tuesday," the elf replied without hesitation.

"No," said Harry, "it was Wednesday. And the day before that was Wednesday, and the day before that, and the day before that."

"Master?"

"Ten weeks, Dobby. Ten weeks I've been living the same day over and over."

The elf's big eyes grew even bigger as the situation was explained, "What can's we do?"

"You need to go tell Lore I need to talk to him. Right now, he's the only one I can trust who might be able to help. I'm – going to go run around the lake, because looping time is no excuse for slacking according to certain felines."

…

It was later that day, within the same loop, after dealing with Snape, the youma, and his friends—actually it was much later that day when he finally managed to duck his various entanglements that he made his way to the kitchen.

Dobby was waiting just inside the portrait.

"Well?"

"He is waiting."

He figured he would be. Dobby may have held the old elf in high esteem, but Harry wasn't forced to view him through such rose-tinted glasses. In some ways he reminded Harry of Dumbledore, twinkling eye and all.

He would have gone to Dumbledore in not for the fear of what he might be. Luna had vetted most of the teachers, but she'd yet been able to get close enough to Dumbledore. Harry could not take that chance, not even for a loop.

One trip through culinary history brought them to the old campfire. Lore was scribbling inside a circle next to it with a piece of chalk.

"Ah, you are here, good," the elf said, as though he'd been expecting him for some time.

"Uh, yeah. I—I needed to talk to you."

"There is not time for talking."

"There isn't?"

"We must act Harry Potter. Time prepares to fold over itself again."

"You mean, you know what is going on?"

The elf shook his head, "The murmurs repeat, again and again. I could not make sense of it till this one came," he said, pointing at Dobby. "I have pondered the problem all day, and I think I may have a solution."

Best news he'd heard in weeks, "What do we do?"

"You have the artifacts with you, the one's like that which does this?"

Of course. He never went anywhere without them, "Here."

Lore looked over the cards, nodded, "These will do. Very good, yes."

He placed each of Harry's four cards at one point on the square inside the circle; LOOP at the head, THUNDER at the bottom, FLY and WINDY on either side.

"So, what is this, what are we doing?"

"Is ritual," said Dobby, wringing his hands fitfully.

"Is that bad?" as his nervousness seemed to suggest.

"Is illegal."

Oh! "But he's going to do it anyway."

"Of course," said Lore.

Of course, thought Harry. "But, why is it illegal?"

"For the same reason it is illegal for us to carry wands," said the old elf. "It is no matter. When time resets again none of this will have happened. That is why we must hurry, to find the culprit so our young wizard might give us back tomorrow."

The old elf had a way with words and took charge like few others Harry had ever seen. Directed to a spot just outside the circle, Lore took the spot opposite, raised his hands, and began to chant.

What he said was beyond Harry's knowledge, in fact it was beyond the knowledge of any man as he would later learn. The chant was in the language of those once called Hobgoblin. It was powerful, magical, just the sort of thing to use for a ritual.

Even unable to understand the words Harry could feel their effect. His skin tingled as the hairs on the back of his arms rose, the whole area charging with power. The cards glowed, manifesting in miniature their physical form.

THUNDER leapt into being while FLY became wings that attached to the lightning hound. WINDY blew gales that lifted the coupling who circled the LOOP, sniffing, before zipping up and out of physical sight.

What came next was disorienting. His own sight became blurred, as a new sight overlay his own. He knew it at once to be THUNDER and FLY as they raced around the school at dizzying speed. They sped past people and ghosts, Peeves doing something to a suit of armor, none of them payed him the slightest mind.

They weren't there, physically, nor in a state anyone could detect, and in this form, they scoured the castle from bottom to top, and there at the top, they found him. High up in the astronomy tower, an old man floated, holding a giant hourglass, its sands nearly run out.

For the first time something responded to their presence. TIME glanced and through THUNDER's eyes he could feel it, the pressure. It pressed down on him an infinite weight, infinite as time.

The last sand fell, and for the first time Harry was conscious of time resetting itself. It felt like a tugging at his foot.

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to get up."

"Yes Dobby, yes it is."

Motivation coursed through him. At last, the goal was in sight.

"Dobby, if you see Lore, tell him I said thank you."

"Elder," Dobby squeaked. "For what thank you."

"For helping me find tomorrow."


	25. Chapter 25

Card the moon

Chapter 25 – Time to stop

…

Patience is a virtue, so long as you don't have to wait for it.

…

TIME was not in the tower when he went looking for it that morning. Nor was it there in the afternoon when he went to check, leaving the youma bouncing around the hall like a pinball. It wasn't there after dinner either, before curfew when he had Dobby pop in to see.

It was now nearing midnight. He circled the tower on magical wings, waiting. Given such time to think he couldn't help but wonder if it had moved. Would it reappear in the same place every time? Did it have to?

There was a nice symmetry to be sure, but it was hardly safe if you didn't wish to be found, which he assumed the card did not want. Was that wrong? Had he spooked it with the ritual.

"Ugh!" he groaned, spiraling, swooping then rising fast to clear his head. "Hate the waiting."

The flying made it less tedious, but he could only go so far. It was hardly ten minutes to midnight, he had to be ready. If it was going to appear it would have to be… "Now."

In the short time he hadn't been looking the old man with the hourglass had appeared. "Time to go to work."

He picked up some altitude then stooped, catching wind at the last second and shooting straight at the manifested card like an arrow.

He was nearly on it when he felt the glance. The weight of time bore down on him, his movement becoming like that of a tortoise wading through thick pudding, the kind with bananas.

He watched the last grain fall, and for the second time Harry Potter witnessed time reset.

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to get up."

"Bollocks!"

…

"Tell it again, come on."

Harry glared at the smirking plushy, "It's not funny."

"It is to me," and just to prove it, he broke out laughing hysterically.

"Oh, shut up Squeaky!" Harry grumbled, but to no avail. Even Squeaky could not break through his mirth.

"I'm very happy you found him," said Luna, pretending to ignore the cackling plushy.

"Yeah, well," Harry grumped, "he's all yours then. Just catch him so we can be done with this day."

"It has rather worn out its welcome, hasn't it?"

…

"Harry Potter sirs, is time to get up."

"Ugh!"

…

"I thought you had this?"

"Things didn't go quite how I wanted them to," said Luna.

"Yeah! So shut up. It's not like you could do any better."

"We'll just see about that."

He wasn't about to sit around and wait for them to figure it out. He'd already worked out a counter to what had happened the last time. He should never have expected to take TIME in the first round.

Round two would be his, after he slogged through yet another uneventful repeat.

Right on time, he appeared, and as before the glance came, but Harry was ready. "LOOP," put him back out of range of the cards spell but left him still coming fast.

He was practically on him when the old man dodged—something. Whatever it was zipped past its target and right into Harry. He had just enough time to categorize the sensation as something on the electric end of the pain spectrum, before it was replaced by a less extreme but more familiar pain.

"Harry Potter sirs. Is time to get up."

He pulled his pillow over his head and screamed.

…

"Just what the heck did you think you were doing?"

"Better than you that's for sure."

"I almost had him."

"You weren't even close."

"Closer than you."

"Yeah, you wish."

"You wanna go pipsqueak!"

"Who you callin pipsqueak, longshanks!"

"Can I say something?"

The two uber macho mans paused in their attempts to inflict serious bodily harm, barely avoiding a synchronized shout of "WHAT!" Good thing too. Lovegood's are prolific pouters and the shaming of such a face is more than either was prepared for.

"I think, what we have here, is an opportunity to collaborate."

" "A what?" "

"We should work together."

" "No way am I working with him… Stop copying me… I'm warning you!" "

The two would have gone back to fighting if Luna hadn't interspersed herself between them, "How bout, you work with me, and Kero can supervise."

"Supervise!"

"Well," Harry hedged, still too worked up to be less obstinate.

Then Luna put her chin on his chest and looked up at him with her big, startled eyes, "Please."

"… fine."

"Yay."

The plushy scowled but Harry was too full of feelings to pay him any mind.

"We'll get it this time for sure," Luna bubbled, "no problem."

…

"Harry Potter sirs. Time to get up."

"… problem."

…

"It's hopeless."

"I thought we did very well."

Harry stared at the smiling girl, unable to comprehend. Wracking his brain for something to say, the system overheated, and he threw up his hands in disgust. "I give up!" Flopping to the floor he leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and waited for the system to cool down.

He ignored the sound of shuffling, the brush against his arm, the weight that settled on his shoulder. "You're frustrated," said Luna.

Harry grunted his acknowledgement, unable to locate enough give a damn for words. Luna seemed to sense this, snuggled up closer and waited for him to find some.

"I don't understand how you can be so optimistic about all this?" he finally said.

"I'm not," she replied. "It is very frustrating."

"Then why do you seem so happy?"

She snuggled closer, "Because you're here."

If he hadn't been sitting already that remark would have put him on the floor. "Really? That's, um…" what was it? He was getting the head fuzz again that made his brain completely useless. How was he supposed to deal with this?

"It's nice to be doing things with people you like."

The hall suddenly felt much warmer, was it getting warmer, gosh it was warm. "I uh, spose you like doing things with your friends."

"I don't really have any friends."

The room cooled off quickly, "What do you mean?"

"I don't think anyone in my house really likes me. I don't think anyone in the school really likes me."

"I like you," the most honest words, spoken without ever needing to think about them.

She looked at him, a glisten shining from her big startled eyes that sent his tonsils to his tongue. She didn't say, I like you too. Nothing so cliché. There was no need for words. They both understood, at least, Harry was beginning to understand.

"Harry?"

"Uh," come on brain, BRAIN, "yes?" that a boy.

"I think I know how we can catch TIME."

…

Midnight approached, exactly ten minutes to. The old man with the hourglass stared at the grinning girl awaiting his arrival. He raised his hand, but hers was faster.

"Finite," she cried, and the world was chaos.

Washbasins, sherry bottles, junk, trash, and bric-a-brac of every kind rained down on the unsuspecting TIME. Dazed and confused he fled away from it all and the crazy grinning girl responsible.

"THUNDER!"

From under his invisibility cloak Harry invoked his card, catching the fleeing card in an electric trap, providing the card captor all the time she needed.

"Return to you power, confined. TIME!"

THUNDER retreat to his own card as TIME was rendered to a glowing swirl, then back to his own form of card. He floated momentarily in midair before sailing into—Harry's hand.

"Uh—that was unexpected."

"Do you think I scared him?" she wondered aloud.

Looking at the mess of junk Dobby had found for them, "Maybe Luna. Maybe."

"Oh poo."

…

"Harry Potter sirs."

Half awake, Harry smiled. His arm. The tugging was on his arm. Had he ever felt anything so wonderful.

"Dobby, I could kiss you."

The elf smiled, though maybe not for the reason Harry thought, "Dobby be thinking you's lady friend would be most jealous."

"Lady frie…" he halted mid-word, registering a weight laying on his left arm he couldn't identify.

Handed his glasses, Harry stared in horror, and several other emotions of equal potency, at the little blonde mop of hair poking out from beneath the blanket.

"Oh boy," were all the words he managed to get out before the brain fuzz made speaking too herculean a task.

And from his arm, the card captor did mumble, "Nargles on parade," before burrowing in deeper. Just because other people were awake didn't mean she had to be.


	26. Chapter 26

Card the moon

Chapter 26 – Twas the time before Christmas

…

"We'll bring you something back."

Once again, Harry watched his friends head out the castle to the coaches waiting to take them to Hogsmeade.

"Have fun," he said without enthusiasm.

He shouldn't have been so depressed. It was the second time after all. But when they'd announced the impromptu Hogsmeade weekend, everyone else had been so excited, because they got to go, it was hard not to be depressed just by comparison.

"S'probably not that great anyway," he muttered, which just goes to prove we save the biggest lies for ourselves.

It was depressing, and a little annoying that without his friends he was reduced to such a state; idle, bored.

That's not to say he had nothing to do. He had several spells he'd picked up during the loops he'd yet to master. He had homework he could be checking over, because it was already done. He could even go out for a fly, if he didn't mind using a school broom.

He did.

It wasn't that he lacked things to do, just anything he wanted to do. Even the Lunas had abandoned him. The cat was staking out Dumbledore's office and the girl had last been seen that morning, chasing something that looked like, what Harry assumed was the inside of a kaleidoscope, farted out by a unicorn.

Much as he might fancy tracking her down to see if she'd made progress, that would entail finding her. And if there was one thing you could say about Hogwarts, it was a good place to hide things. Provided you didn't point out to the whole school where it was.

Tired of moping he left the hall and headed back to the tower. He hadn't gotten far when he was accosted by a pair of ginger doppelgangers.

"Harry."

"Old boy."

"Uh oh, what did you two do this time?"

Their shared evil grins suggested too many things to speculate.

"Oh Harry."

"It's not what we did."

"It's what we're going to do."

"Which is?"

"Give you your Christmas present a little bit early."

Pulling him into a darkened alcove, they produced an old folded up bit of parchment, reverently placed in his hand.

"What is it?" he said, trying not to sound as unimpressed as he felt.

"This is the secret to our success."

Several sarcastic remarks vied for his attention, but then he stopped. He was a wizard; magic was a thing, wasn't it.

"How's it work?"

A wand was drawn and pressed to the paper, "I solemnly swear, I am up to no good."

A very sarcastic 'no duh' was on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw it, a small spot on the parchment, from which spread line after line, racing each other across the paper. Lines became words and Harry marveled at what he saw.

_ Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-makers are proud to present the marauders map._

"What is this?"

"A map of Hogwarts."

"And Hogsmeade."

They opened the parchment to reveal, not only a map, but a living map, showing everyone and everything moving about in the castle in real time.

"Wicked!" to say the least. "Where'd you get this?"

"Nicked it from Filch's office."

"First year."

"It has been a great boon to our work."

"Bit of a wrench giving it to you."

"But we decided, your need is greater than ours."

An understatement, even if they didn't know. If it did what they said, what he held in his hands could probably find every youma currently in the castle; maybe even the Clow cards.

It may have been a bit selfish the first thing he thought of was, "Did you say Hogsmeade?"

The twins quickly revealed to him the various secret passages, pointing him to the one Filch was unaware of before turning the map off and going to join their friends down in the village.

"See you down there."

"Or maybe we won't 'see' you."

That, thought Harry, was probably a good idea. Handy, he was carrying the invisibility cloak.

Sneaking into the humpback witch Harry pulled out the map and headed for Hogsmeade. "Best day ever." Nothing could ruin his mood now. Not youma, not Clow cards, not even Sirius Black.

…

"You all go on; I'll catch up later."

"Oh, you hear that girls, she'll catch up later."

"Oh, later."

"Better not make it too much later."

Susan Bones scowled at her persnickety housemates. Just what were they implying? She wasn't doing anything wrong. Just because she was going to that shop. Nothing wrong with that. Lots of people went to that shop, or so she'd heard.

Turning her nose up at the now absent annoyances, she marched proudly, down the main street toward that shop. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Nothing wrong at all. Who did they think they were?

Her proud march slowed to a timid shuffle when the shop came into sight. She wasn't doing anything wrong. They had no right to judge her. She could just march right in there and no one would so much as bat an eye.

She dithered.

She scuffed the snow, she walked in circles, she did everything and anything she could think of to psych herself up. She was going in there. She was GOING in there.

"Mmmm," she whined.

"Oy, ya gonna stand there all day," a passerby shouted.

"I'm not doing anything wrong," she shouted back.

"Who're you foolin?" he shouted back, then cackled like he knew something she didn't.

"Oooooo!" angrily she marched up to the door and went in.

The light was poorer inside, the economy you know. Glowing orbs hovered over empty sconces and torches attached to walls and shelves. The poor lighting was by virtue of one such shelf being placed not three feet in front of the big windows taking up most of the store front. Poor planning to be sure, but it did make use of this by being full of the widest variety of—things, she'd ever seen.

"Good morning," said a cultured tenor.

The sound of it sent shivers down her spine and into her—you know what.

"Good morning," she replied timidly, as the source of that voice came into view.

"Well, well, Miss Bones, back again? Is it a Hogsmeade weekend then?"

"Uh, um, YES! Uh, yes, yes, yes it is," she babbled like a fool.

"How fortuitous, I just recently received a shipment of the most interesting knickknacks and oddities from the continent," the man rambled amiably. "But that's not important right now, what can I do for you Miss Bones?"

Several ideas ran through her head, like a bunch of streakers, absolutely shameful. "You—you could call me, Susan," she mumbled, "Mr. uh," dammit, what was his last name.

"Oh, there's no need to stand on formality," he waved, "Just Neph will do, Susan."

"YES!" she squeaked, face full of heat.

"What can I do for you today? Anything in particular you're looking for. I've just been reading the most interesting set of books on the history of the dragon preserves."

"I like books," she said.

'He likes books,' she swooned in her head, and nearly in real life. That heat was starting to go to the rest of her head.

"Why don't I show you some of my new favorites. I'm sure we can find something to your liking."

Head too full of heat to speak she just nodded. She wasn't doing anything wrong. There was no rule that said you had to go into a store for the items. That didn't mean she was there 'just' to ogle the hunky shop keep. Absolutely not. Mm, mm, no way, nope… okay maybe just a little, but don't tell anyone. If people found out, it would be the worst thing ever.

…

Of all the things he'd imagined happening, this was the worst thing ever. Why did he have to find out? Why did it have to be true? Sirius Black, the man who was trying to kill him, the man who betrayed his parents, was their friend. Best man at their wedding no less.

He lay in his bed, fuming silently. Why hadn't they told him? Why hadn't anyone told him? They must have known, Fudge knew. But could Harry know, of course not, we have to protect Harry. Bloody lot of good that was doing.

He remained perfectly still when Ron came up, feigning sleep when his best mate tried to talk to him. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to kill something. And he would. Black wanted to find him, well, he'd just find Black, and when he did, he'd give the traitorous bastard exactly what he deserved.

The holidays were starting, that would give him all kinds of time to train.


	27. Chapter 27

Card the Moon

Chapter 27 – Oh, Christmas trees

…

"Harry, mate, you okay?"

What a stupid question, Harry thought, which was similar to what he'd been thinking most of the morning. His friends were tiptoeing around something, afraid to tell him, what? He had a pretty good idea. It was being quite uncharitable to his friends to think it, but he was in quite an uncharitable mood.

He might have been able to work some of it off, if his friends hadn't decided to follow him around everywhere. So much for getting the most out of his holiday.

"Harry?"

Now Hermione was doing it, "What?"

"It's just, Ron and I've been talking."

"How magnanimous of Ron," who was still convinced all that ailed his ailing rat was to be blamed on Luna, which by extension, meant Hermione.

"Mate, we're worried about you."

They had a really annoying way of showing it.

"Harry, you have to promise us you won't do anything foolish."

"No," half the things he did on a daily basis could be considered foolish depending on who you asked, and besides, he didn't have to promise anything he didn't want to.

"Come on mate, be reasonable."

"It's no good you going after Sirius Black. You're going to get yourself killed. You think that's what your parents would have wanted?"

"I wouldn't know. I never got a chance to ask them."

'Because of him' hung in the air not needing to be said. It was a low blow, but no lower than playing the 'what would your parents say' card. How would he know what his parents would say, he'd never gotten the chance to know them. Maybe they would have been behind the idea. How would he know?

"Come on mate it's the holidays. Why don't we go see Hagrid? We haven't done that in a while."

"Yes!" said Hermione, jumping on the idea. "Let's go see Hagrid."

"Yes, let's go see Hagrid," said Harry, surprising his friends. "We can ask him why he never mentioned my father was friends with a mass murdering traitor."

His friends quickly attempted to backpedal, but Harry was having none of it. If they wouldn't go, he'd go himself, and so, the three of them headed out the portrait hole, ignoring Sir Cadogan's challenge as they passed.

"I'm sure he wasn't trying to keep it from you. It probably just slipped his mind."

"Seems to be going around." How many others knew? Who else was intentionally keeping him in the dark?

McGonagall? Almost certainly. Flitwick? Dumbledore, he hadn't really seen, and also might be a youma; that as yet hadn't been verified. It was maddening, knowing how little he knew and knowing people were trying to keep him from knowing.

"Hermione! I'm sure Hagrid will be able to explain himself; you can stop making up excuses for him," Harry said sharply, cutting off her babbling defense.

"You don't need to snap."

He didn't, but it wasn't going to stop him. His mood did not allow for a two-sided argument, so he saw no reason trying to have one.

Another sharp remark sat honing the edge of his tongue, but an offhand comment from Ron sent it tumbling off, "Are those trees?"

The non sequitur was sufficiently perplexing both his friends looked at him oddly.

"What are you on about?" said Harry.

"Down there," said Ron, staring over the edge and down the great spiral of free-thinking staircases.

His friends followed his gaze, "They do look a bit," said Hermione.

"What in the world?"

Down on the ground floor, a whole stand of trees was growing. One seemed to be growing especially fast, in their direction.

"How can it be doing that?" said Hermione frantically.

"Magic," offered Ron.

"Oh really!"

Ron shrugged, causing Harry to crack his first smile all day. It made as much sense as anything else. It was why the staircase they were on chose that moment to move, carrying Hermione and Ron upward and to the left.

"Harry!" was perfectly fine, only now one floor removed from his friends.

"Mate, wait for us. We'll find a way over to you."

"No," said Harry. "Head for the ground floor. I'll meet you down there."

He had a pretty good idea what was causing the sudden forestation of the castle, and he didn't need his friends who were not in the know getting in his way.

"FLY!"

On white wings he glided down to ground level, passing the tree that continued to grow up between the stairs. At the rate it was going it would be pushing through the roof of the tower within a couple hours.

"Gotta find where this is coming from." He didn't fancy sleeping under an open sky in the middle of winter.

The ground floor was a mess, covered in moving roots spreading further from their source. This at least worked in his favor. All he had to do was go in the opposite direction the roots were going. That was where the advantage ended, because the doorway was completely blocked off by trees.

His wings vanished as he stood thinking. None of his cards would be any good here. Even TIME could only hope to slow things down; WINDY, LOOP, what could they do.

"Guess we're going native," he remarked, saddened only by the fact the cat wasn't around to hear it.

His first spell was a cutter, much improved from the first time he'd cast it, "Well that's discouraging." Much improved was not enough to get more than halfway through one trunk, which then presented another problem.

The damage was quick to begin repairing. He could throw cutters for days and not get anywhere. This limited his options. The blaster might work, might. He had only one other good option, but he was hesitant to use fire. With so much wood, he might well cut himself off and burn to death.

"Have to risk it," the problem wasn't going to solve itself and he couldn't count on anyone else to do it. Luna had gone home for the holidays.

There hadn't been a proper name for the spell in the book, least not one he could read. It was an old text; the sort Hermione would have loved. He'd picked it up because he tripped over it. The spell was modular, giving a slightly different effect depending on the will and focus of the caster. If he wasn't careful one spell could completely drain him.

He focused his into a bore of white fire that drilled through the wooden barrier, rendering the obstacle swiftly to ash. He broke off the spell and leapt through the opening, turning back to put out any lingering flames only to find they were putting themselves out as the opening was sealed shut behind him.

"That can't be good," if it could seal up a hole that big that fast, he needed to get moving.

The corridor was surprisingly empty, all the foliage reaching around the walls and across the ceiling, hiding the stone but still remaining a corridor. It felt like he had been raised several feet, judging by the position of the windows which could just barely be made out in the cracks and provided some illumination.

It was enough to see and carefully he made his way further in. There was no obvious growing here, so he was forced to guess that he was going the right way. Given the number of turns and forks it was possible, even likely he'd get lost seeking his objective, since he didn't know where it was.

Serendipity smiled on him, because she knew it would annoy Fate, and presented him with a bit of assistance.

"Mrow. Mrow."

Harry stopped, "I know that mrow," he said, "but where is it coming from?"

He followed the persistent calling till he found a long line of trees lining a once open hallway.

"Well, well, what have we here? Kitty stuck up a tree?"

The kitty looked down at him in surprise, "Harry? Is that you? How'd you get in here?"

"Burned my way in."

"Are you mad? With all this wood?"

"Thought about that," he said. "I barely got through the hole before it started growing back."

"Oh dear, that's not good."

No, it wasn't, "I've got to find the source. You know what this is, what it has to be that's doing this?"

The cat nodded, "It's certainly no youma. If it were you could be certain it would have come to investigate you burning it."

"Hadn't thought of that," though it was certainly true. "Do you need some help getting out of there?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, yes. Just stand right there, and…" the cat leapt from her perch to his waiting shoulder. "Ah, much better. Going to be cleaning all that sap off my paws for hours."

"Well now that your down, any idea where I should go?"

"The great hall," she said without pause.

"You're sure?"

"That's where I saw it coming from, before I got stuck up there and deposited here."

A thought struck him, "You don't think, the Christmas tree?"

"That would make sense."

"Well let's go."

"Just a second," she interrupted. "Before we go, can you do me a favor and burn out that tree. All the way down if possible. There's something under there I want to get at."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Summoning the fire again as a white-hot pillar, the tree was turned to ash down to its roots which yelped and scrambled beneath their feet.

"What the hell! What was that?"

"A youma," said the cat.

"There was a youma under there?"

She nodded, "I was tracking it when this all started."

"Should we—go after it?" it didn't seem wise leaving it to run loose, but…

"No, I'll go after it. You go handle this. You're the only one who can. I'll find Hermione and have her deal with him."

"She and Ron were trying to find their way to the ground floor when I saw them last. They should have made it by now."

With a nod the cat was off, and Harry headed for the great hall as fast as he could. Not as fast as he would have liked but over the uneven footing of the roots it was the best he could do. The corridor was too tight to use FLY, his wings would easily brush either wall.

Still, he made headway, till he came to near the entrance to the great hall where the ceiling really opened up, "Oh bugger," and the trees returned, in height.

It was an indoor conifer woodland, Spruce if wasn't wrong, though he might have been, he wasn't an arborist. They filled the space from wall to wall and stretched all the way to the ceiling. So many close together, their branches interwove creating an impenetrable barrier.

Impenetrable, till you cut them off.

The branches grew back quickly, but not fast enough to stop Harry getting through. He stuck to his cutter on this one, trimming branches and weaving through the open spaces till he heard a sound coming from the other side. It sounded like, singing?

"I know that voice. HAGRID!"

The singing stopped, "Arry? That you?"

It was, "Yeah! What're you doing?"

"Trying to cut my way in. You know what's going on Harry?"

Probably, "I'm currently blaming Fred and George, just on principle."

A big chuckle rolled through the forest, "Whether it them or not they'll probably get the blame anyway."

And relish the attention, "It's already spread all the way to the tower."

"Musta gotten away from um. Where you headed?"

"The great hall. You haven't seen anyone else in all this have you?"

"Not yet," he said. "But I know Dumbledore's down in the village vistin is brother. Can't say where anyone else might be."

Probably barricaded in their offices, thought Harry. "I'm gonna cut my way into the hall and see what I can find. If we can stop it growing, we might be able to do something about all this."

"Be careful Arry. No telling what ya might find in there."

That wasn't true. Harry had a pretty good idea what he'd find, though he was a bit surprised. He wasn't expecting to find the WOOD card, an elfin looking woman, sitting midway up the Christmas tree, cuddling?

"Not the weirdest the thing I've seen this year," he reminded himself as he approached the tree, clearing his throat to get her attention.

The card startled, face turning red and shameful, like she'd just been caught at an illicit tryst.

"Well, I'm waiting."

The card gently slid down the tree, bashfully refusing to look directly at him. Harry could only shake his head. She looked so, innocent, so demure in her embarrassment, it was hard to be mad.

"Alright, you've had your fun. Time to go back in your card. WOOD."

With no resistance the avatar of the card returned to her sealed form which floated gently into Harry's hand. "If only they were all so easy."

"Arry! Arry, you get it?"

"Yeah, I think so!" he shouted back, quickly searching for a way to hide what had actually happened. In a hall full of roots and saplings, there was only one sacrifice he thought might suffice.

"Good thing they haven't decorated it yet," he said, turning his wand to the Christmas tree.


	28. Chapter 28

Card the moon

Chapter 28 – Christmas present

…

"Harry! Wake up! It's Christmas!"

A smile spread across a half sleeping face. It was Christmas.

"Come on Harry, get up!"

It amazed him how energetic his friend could be on Christmas morning, while never being even half so motivated any other morning of the year. Truly it was a magic greater than anything taught at Hogwarts.

It must have been contagious too; Harry bounced out of bed, then bounced back to find his glasses. The pile of presents at the foot was a sight to behold, each and every one precious beyond words.

All his life he'd longed after 'things'. Not because he really wanted them but because he never had any and everyone around him did. At some point he'd gotten it into his head that things were the source of the happiness they all had that he didn't but desperately craved.

It all stemmed from his deep-seated desire to be like everyone else, silly now that he thought about it. He wasn't like everyone else. And in that moment, he was grateful for that. Would everyone else have been able to accomplish all he had? Would everyone else have survived?

In the end, it didn't really matter. There were presents to unwrap.

The pile wasn't huge, but each gift meant something. Mrs. Weasley of course had sent him another sweater, scarlet red with a Gryffindor lion on it, along with a dozen mince pies, Christmas cake, and nut brittle.

He was surprised, when shuffling his packages around, to find a small baby blue box tied with a neon pink ribbon and a tiny card that stated it was from Luna. It didn't take a rocket broom scientist to guess it must be from the girl. The cat would never have used such mismatched colors.

This however was nothing compared to the long slender parcel. The contents falling out when he unwrapped it sending the whole room into silent awe.

"Is that?"

A Firebolt, just like the one he'd seen in the window in Diagon Alley, and his dreams periodically throughout the term.

"Who sent it to you."

A quick search revealed no card.

"I'll bet its from Dumbledore. He sent you the invisibility cloak."

"Yeah, but that belonged to my dad. He was just passing it along to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of galleons on a student—I mean, people'd say it was favoritism." And worse if they thought they could get away with it.

"Probably why he didn't send a card. That way no one like Malfoy can accuse—cor, Malfoy, can you imagine the look on his face when he sees you on this. He'll probably puke."

It wasn't much of an image, but Harry couldn't deny there was a certain appeal to it.

Their continued worship of his new flying rod of ultimate awesomeness was interrupted by Hermione coming in to wish them a happy Christmas. Ron didn't have a problem with that; the inclusion of Luna however had him nearly throwing a hissy fit, grabbing Scabbers and stuffing him in his pocket for safety.

Luna, hanging helplessly from Hermione's arms, was for once not taunting his ginger friend. Not that she needed to at this point. Her mere presence was taunt enough.

"What's that you've got there?"

The Firebolt was quickly explained, but rather than share in their enthusiasm, Hermione seemed concerned. "Seems a bit odd, don't you think? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom."

"Quite a good—this is the best broom in the world!" exclaimed Ron.

"Even more strange then, it must be very expensive."

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherin teams brooms combined."

"Then who would send Harry something like that, and not even bother sending a card so he knew it was them?"

"Who cares! Ey, Harry. Can I have a go on it. Please."

"I don't think anyone should ride it. Not yet."

Stares of incomprehension met this statement, but it was at that moment Scabbers decided to make a break for it. The rat scrambling on the floor startled Hermione who accidentally dropped Luna, practically on top of the rat who course corrected at the last second to avoid the feline.

There was much flailing and moving about all at once, somewhere within Ron wound up kicking something and saying several words his mother would have been horrified to hear and quick to remedy with a bar of soap in his mouth.

Hermione and cat were promptly thrown out over the sound of Ron cursing his poor abused phalanges. He'd mostly calmed down by the time they went down for Christmas dinner, though Harry noted Hermione still seemed concerned about something.

Given everything on her plate, and the fact they came down to find her with her nose in a textbook, he thought he had a good idea. The work was piling up on his brainy friend. She'd likely be using the holiday to catch up on some of it. With any luck the youma would be on vacation as well and she could get down to it.

He made a mental note to talk to Luna when they got back to the tower, but that was mostly forgotten by the time they made it down the stairs.

The big tree that had been growing up the tower the other day was still there, now fully decorated for the holiday. Most of the roots had been removed as had the trees outside the great hall, several of which had been moved inside the hall to replace the one he'd destroyed to cover up the origin of that particular calamity.

There hadn't been a lot of questions asked. They'd all been working to clear the mess out when Dumbledore came back, and he'd seemed more interested in getting the whole thing cleaned up than in finding someone to blame for it.

A single table was set up where everyone left in the castle was sitting. A boy from Hufflepuff who'd remained, sat awestruck next to Dumbledore, which made Harry want to chuckle. It reminded him a bit of how he'd been the first time he'd been in the man's presence as well.

Things were a little tense with Snape sitting at the same table, but it looked like the headmaster would keep the old grump busy and Hermione blushed rather amusingly when she found herself seated next to Professor Jade.

Harry and Ron refrained from teasing her only because they both had some respect for this professor who was not at all like Lockhart, the last professor Hermione had been swooning over.

That she would have been teased over. Mercilessly.

Everyone received a surprise when who should join them at the last second but Sybil Trelawney.

The only one who seemed genuinely happy to see her was Dumbledore. McGonagall spent several minutes trading catty barbs with the divination teacher, while Professor Jade just looked at her with what Harry could only call inquisitive interest, though he refrained from speaking to her; he had his plate full with Hermione.

The arrival of the food, which was standard Hogwarts magnificent, broke off the catty argument and drown any thought of the absence of Lupin, yet again ill, in favor of stuffing the face in the grand old Christmas tradition.

The first to leave was Professor Jade, begging off for a previous engagement.

"I hope to be back in a few days, if not, I'll see you all after the holiday."

It was a good hour before everyone else began wandering back to wherever it was they were going. Harry and Ron meandered up the tower in no real hurry. Hermione had stayed behind to talk to Professor McGonagall.

"You think we'll see any of her for the rest of the holiday?" wondered Ron.

"Not unless you're planning to go to the library," said Harry.

"Not on your life."

The two of them laughed, casually throwing the latest password at Sir Cadogan who was enjoying an ale with several others from different portraits. Even his fat pony seemed to be getting into the holiday spirit, or perhaps better to say the holiday spirits were getting into the pony.

While Ron flopped into the nearest chair, Harry went upstairs to retrieve his Firebolt, bringing it down and setting it on the table so they could both admire it.

They were still basking in the glow of full bellies and magical broomsticks when Hermione came in, looked guiltily at the broom before disappearing into the corner. Ron hadn't even asked, "What's her problem," when McGonagall came in.

"So, that's it then," she said, pointedly looking at Harry's new broom.

Harry didn't know what to say, he didn't know what was happening, only that it was bad. He was immediately proven right when he heard the word 'confiscate'.

"I understand your concern," she said, referring to Ron who had immediately roused to Harry's defense while he was still too shellshocked to do so himself.

But apparently understanding did not mean giving in. Needed to be checked for safety. Return it as soon as they know.

She was gone before he'd regained the ability to speak, at which point Ron was already laying into Hermione, the dirty little snitch.

"Why'd you do it? Why couldn't you just leave it alone!"

"Because!" she shouted back, "I believe, and Professor McGonagall agrees with me. The person who sent him that broom, was Sirius Black."


	29. Chapter 29

Card the moon

Chapter 29 – Let it snow

…

Bitter. Cold. There was a hole in his soul, bitter and cold. All the warmth was gone. The sun had set forever. Joy, happiness, what are these things? Are they tasty? Can they fill the hole? The hole in his soul, so bitter, so cold.

Ron was still fuming, and Hermione was in the library avoiding both of them. Harry was inclined to let her be, Ron too. He was still angry with Hermione but Ron's need to harp on the point was not improving the situation. No one could. It was gone. His one, his only, gone.

*sigh*

Okay, so he was being a bit overdramatic. If he was being honest with himself, and it was really hard, it was—just, just—just a bbbbbbroomstick.

"Ugh! I can't even think it," he moped aloud.

And who could blame him? It wasn't 'just' a broomstick, it was a Firebolt. He'd wanted one from the very moment he lay eyes on it. And he'd had it. For a few glorious hours it was his. Technically it still was, for all the good it did him now that McGonagall held it in custody. And for what? The chance it might be hexed.

She wasn't even doing anything with it, couldn't. The only one qualified to do the job was Flitwick and he was out of the castle till the holiday was over. Some holiday.

He couldn't stand to be around either of his friends, so he'd gone for a walk. If either of them had been paying attention they might have told him not to go. Wandering around on his own; don't you know Sirius Black is out to get you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?

They wouldn't have liked his answer. He wasn't suicidal but he was in a foul mood; the kind of mood that would lead him to saying things; stupid things; things he didn't really mean but wouldn't stop himself from saying. Those kind of things.

He meandered past the quidditch stadium, snow lightly falling around him. He barely glanced when his elf popped in just behind him, loud enough to announce his presence, a presence that shouldn't have been in his presence.

"I thought I said I wanted to be left alone Dobby."

The elf nodded timidly, he remembered the conversation, "Dobby is knowing, but, Dobby is noticing as he is tidying Harry Potter sirs things, Harry Potter sirs is missing unwrapping one of his presents."

The elf held out his over sized hand, presenting a light blue package with a neon pink bow, "From you's Miss Loveygood."

A wry smile drifted across Harry's face at the way Dobby referred to Luna; wry being all he could manage while remaining in his funk which he was far from ready to come out of.

"Thank you, Dobby," he said, taking the tacky package.

The elf nodded and vanished with a snap, leaving Harry with the peculiar package from the peculiar girl.

Curiosity temporarily overcame his mood, and how could it not. He'd never met anyone so atypical as Luna Lovegood. What might such a person give as a gift. The box wasn't very big, though with magic that certainly didn't mean much.

He worked out the knot on the garish pink bow, stuffing the ribbon into his pocket before he opened it. Inside was a very nice, albeit simple wristwatch. The knob on the end used to wind it seemed larger than it ought to be, but beyond that it looked as nothing more than a perfectly ordinary time piece.

Of course, he didn't believe that for a second. Unless he'd read Luna completely wrong, there was no way she would send a regular gift like a wristwatch. Didn't stop him from putting it on. The fit was perfect, uncannily so even.

"That can't be all."

Staring at the watch forced no secrets from it so he turned to the box. The small space beneath the padded base, revealed after a good shaking, released a folded bit of paper signed Luna at the bottom.

It was a rambly, directionless sort of note. It made him feel better because that was totally Luna. It ended with something about gentleman always standing for a lady before ending with her signature. He read it again, still unable to make sense of it before turning it over.

Set the time to midnight, press in the button, and say, 'Suit up', was all she wrote.

This he understood, at least in so far as he knew what he was supposed to do. He pulled out the knob, adjusted the time to midnight, pushed in the knob and said, "Suit up."

Nothing happened.

Disheartened, he fiddled a bit with the knob, only to discover it pushed in further when the time was set to midnight, "Suit up?"

It probably wasn't supposed to be a question, but the watch didn't care. Context was a bit beyond its limited understanding; it heard the words, it did what it was made to do.

He started at the glow that encompassed him, then marveled at its effect, his entire outfit, changed in a near instant. And where had the cane come from?

The snow fall grew notably heavier as he examined his present. The new outfit wasn't put over his old cloths, everything had been completely replaced. He now found himself wearing a very nice suit, complete with white silk shirt and red silk tie; black coat and trousers, and yes, even the underwear was new. How she'd gotten his size, especially for his underwear was too mortifying to think about.

He also found a black bowler hat atop his head, and a black domino mask over his face, replacing his glasses. Upon inspection he found they had lenses implanted in the eye holes, good lenses, better lenses. Lenses like he'd never seen through. Everything was so clear, like how much the snow had picked up.

"That was quick," he remarked, looking around at the growing flurry.

It would have been easy to head back inside. No amount of avoiding his friends was worth standing out in a blizzard. He wasn't feeling that spiteful. But when he turned toward the castle, a wicked chill ran up his spine, accompanied by a wailing snow filled gale blasting a wall in front of him. That wasn't normal.

"That can only mean one of two things. I'm betting—Clow card."

He turned back around and came face to face with a snow-white woman in an ornate Japanese robe. It was only a moment, there and gone as the blizzard quickly obscured her from view. Harry trudged over to where he thought she'd been, but she was gone. So was the quidditch stadium, the castle, the forest, basically anything more than five feet in front of his nose.

"Well bugger me," it was going to be another one of those, the kind that tried, overtly, to kill him.

Lucky for him he had a spell that ought to blast right through her little blizzard. Unlucky for him, as he soon discovered, his change of clothes had included anything he was carrying inside them, like his wand.

"Double bugger me," his Clow cards had been in his 'other pants' as well. "Huh, so that's what people mean by that."

Now he was really in for it. Unarmed, lost, in a blizzard, and he didn't know how to change back. "This has got to be some sort of karma. Was I a dark lord in a previous life?"

It was with surprising calm he considered his options. Surrounded by a howling blizzard he shouldn't have felt calm, it was very strange. He put it out of his mind for later and focused on his immediate situation.

He had no wand, which meant no fire spell. He had no Clow cards, at least, none that he could touch. But did he need to. The first time he used the WINDY he hadn't been touching the card, or LOOP. They'd been in his back pocket. He may have been guessing, but it was fair to surmise in some sense all his cloths, including the cards within, were somehow inside the watch. Would that be enough.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, the wind howled, and the snow piled with worrying speed. He drown it out, he felt them, far yet near (round yet square). He was going entirely on instinct, but so what else was new. Everything he'd been doing with the Clow cards since the Buckbeak incident had been on instinct.

"WINDY!"

A swirling vortex blasted the snow away and he stood in stillness. He had a sense that the other card didn't like that; the blizzard pressed in hard against the stilling gale.

"Got to find her. Can't just sit here and let her blast me." But how? She could be anywhere. How did you track something like that? "With a very special kind of dog. THUNDER!"

The lightning hound erupted into existence and roared its arrival. A glance was shared tween man and thundering beast, then he was after her. It was a short hunt; she hadn't gone far. The blizzard failed when the first scream came. Thunder chased her out of the forest and into the open, dogging her heels and cutting off every attempt to attack.

WINDY, waiting patiently, snatched up the snow spirit in her swirling embrace, raising her out of reach of the thunder hound. Harry trudged through the snow till he was looking straight up at the captured spirit.

"You're lucky I don't have my wand, or I would have toasted your frosty butt."

The spirit turned up her nose haughtily, which lost some of its effect with her hair blowing in her face.

"Yeah, I think that's enough of your attitude. Back to the card with you. SNOW!"

The swirling wind mixed with the swirling snow, all dying away, the card floating stubbornly into his waiting hand. Even sealed he could feel the obstinance radiating off it.

"She must be fun at parties," Harry quipped to no one but himself. "Now, time to get out of this stupid cold."

Get inside, warm up, figure out how to change back, that was his plan. It hit a bit of wrench when he neared the castle and a black cat with a crescent moon on her forehead came charging out.

"Harry? Harry, please tell me that's you."

"Yeah, why wouldn't it—oh the outfit. Yeah, it's me," he said.

"Where did you—never mind. More important things. We've found another youma, and this one is no joke. Sailor Moon's fighting it, but she's losing badly. If we don't hurry, I'm afraid it will…"

But Harry didn't need to hear the rest, couldn't in fact. He was too busy running.


	30. Chapter 30

Card the moon

Chapter 30 – Secrets revealed

…

_I don't care what they think. It was for his own good. I don't care what they think. It was for his own good. I don't care what they think. _

There is an argument to be made for mantras, the repeated chanting of things for purposes of… um—purposes. In this instance, the purpose was to convince herself that she really didn't care what her friends thought of her, because what she'd done was right and for their own good. She didn't care what they thought of her. No, really.

It wasn't working, the mantra that is. The need to concentrate on the words was simply keeping her from breaking down and crying, it wasn't convincing anyone of anything, least of all her.

Snitch, they'd called her, and much worse. Ron had at least. Harry had just sat there with a hollow look like she'd ripped his heart right out of his chest. She could use that metaphor because she was feeling a very similar feeling as she walked back from the library only her hole was filled with water that threatened to spill out through her eyes.

She couldn't study like that. She'd get the pages all wet.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!"

She blinked away the threatening tears as her cat tore round the corner and came barreling at her, "Luna? Luna what is it?"

"Youma," the cat cried. "Transform. NOW!"

The urgency, nay panic from her familiar had her dropping the stack of books she was carrying and scrambling for her compact as the sound of buzzing filled the corridor. "Moon power, make up!"

Twirl, flash, sparklesparklesparkle, and Sailor Moon watched the youma come buzzing around the corner. Hermione was surprised, none of the others could fly. The youma was surprised too, she thought she was just chasing down a light snack.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Hermione groaned, "Must you be so cliché?"

"It's called classic," the youma countered.

"It's called overused and uncreative," Sailor Moon counter countered.

"Well, what do you know! Who the heck are you?"

The ghost of Shakespeare rose up, only to be soundly beaten back down with unnecessary force. She was not in the mood.

"I'm Sailor Moon, and your about to be dust!" There was no spinning or twirling when she yanked the tiara from her head, but it still glowed like a golden discus of death when she flung it at the hovering youma.

The youma, nonplussed, dodged with insulting ease. That was okay, she'd get her on the rebound—except not. The youma appeared acutely aware of her surroundings and gently floated out of harms way as the tiara returned to its thrower.

"That all you got?"

Yes, the stupid tiara was all she had. She didn't count the crying thing, she had no control over that, and the deep lonely sorrow she'd been feeling had all been channeled into her anger circuit, charging it up just below hissing, spitting fury.

She threw the tiara again. It was a mistake.

The youma dodged then shot forward like an arrow, taking the Sailor scout hard in the midsection. She'd been hit a lot of times since becoming Sailor Moon, but this was something new. She could have done without it.

She did a rolling slide across the floor, coming to a halt gasping for air and holding her battered middle like the insides might fall out if she didn't.

"What, is that all?" the youma taunted, listing to the right as the tiara came back, hitting the floor before skidding to a halt some feet from its owner.

Hermione looked up at the smirking youma. Anger warred with fear who was bolstered by pain. She fought herself to a standing position, hobbled to retrieve her tiara. The youma watched, utterly confident in her position.

They shared a look, Hermione's eyes glistened, then, she turned abruptly and ran.

The youma's echoing laughter ran along beside her, easily keeping pace. "Run fast little mouse. I wouldn't want this to be over too soon."

She didn't want to be over too soon either since it promised to be over very badly for her. Rational thought jumped ship and all operations were transferred to instinct, and instinct knew its job. Run; run fast, run far, do not stop.

This of course is why humans are not run purely on instinct. It's their ability to reason that makes them the apex animal. For example, Sailor Moon could run, far better than plain old Hermione, far better than most professional athletes, and in heels. What Sailor Moon could not do was run forever; even the cosmic powered soldier would tire eventually. She also could not fly.

"Here I come little mouse."

And that was just under normal circumstances. Her middle had the feeling of being hit repeatedly with a sledgehammer and this was being translated in strange and unhelpful ways into her legs and lungs.

In short, running was getting her nowhere fast, but the parts of her brain that would have told her that were currently shut down to power her fight or flight instinct, and the switch was taped down on flight.

"Oo, watch out for that corner. Come on, you can do better than that. Lift those knees, hup, hup, hup!" the youma taunted like it were all some sadistic game.

Hermione didn't see the humor. She also didn't see the invisible dust bunny, because who ever does, that sent her into a painful flying tumble with an embarrassing butt in the air skid. The only saving grace, there was no wall crash at the end.

The youma hovered overhead cackling as Hermione achingly tried to right herself. Her legs shook and failed. She couldn't stand. She couldn't fight. Instinct had failed and reason came back online just in time to tell her exactly how screwed she was. The tears came freely then.

"Aw, big bad Sailor scout all runned out," the youma said. "It's funny you know. I'd heard all of you were supposed to be dead."

Undoubtably there was a quip about making her dead soon to follow but she'd no interest in hearing it. She opened her mouth, more than adequately distraught to use her trump card, but the youma cut her off, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her squirming form against the wall.

"Well, better late than never," she cackled, drawing back a hand which grew fingernails as long and sharp as daggers. "I wonder what master Jadeite will say when I bring him your corpse?"

"Don't spend so much time gloating."

The crack echoed the full length of the hall and Sailor Moon went 'oof' when she was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Several more cracks quickly followed, and Hermione looked to see a dark form thrashing the youma.

No, not a dark form she realized as her eyes came back into focus. A man, a well-dressed man with a cane was beating the youma like a red-haired stepchild. The cane made a wicked crack every time it connected with her face and he was so fast the youma had no chance to put up a defense.

"Hermione! Hermione are you alright?"

Her cat bounded up, concern writ clear across her feline face.

"Hermione?"

"Who is that?"

He was amazing. He was ferocious. He kicked like a mule, sending the youma sprawling to the ground stunned.

He looked at her through his domino mask. He offered his hand, "Stand up, Sailor Moon. The fights not over yet."

Renewed energy flowed through her, cheeks reddening as she took the offered hand and rose unsteadily to her feet. "Who—who are you?"

"That's what I want to know," the youma interrupted, flopping around angrily as she tried to figure out which way was up.

"That's not important," he said calmly. "We have more pressing matters to attend."

Pressing matters who chose that moment to figure out where the ground was and remember how to get off of it.

"She flies," said Sailor Moon, "none of the others could do that."

She looked a little shaky, but Sailor Moon still felt a little shaky. She wasn't going to throw the tiara again unless she knew it would connect.

"Flimsy looking wings," the man observed.

They were similar to a dragonfly's only much larger and pointed at the tips.

"If we could break them," said Sailor Moon. "But she's so fast."

"I wonder how well they handle the cold?"

They way he said it sent a chill racing up her spine, then she realized it wasn't his words, the temperature in the hall had abruptly dropped, and was that a breeze.

"SNOW!"

Sailor Moon squealed when the arctic blast flew down the hall. Grabbing her skirt, she pressed into the well-dressed man for protection. It felt, oddly familiar.

The wind subsided; Sailor Moon opened her eyes to a cheeky sort of grin. "That worked better than I'd hoped."

Buried under a foot of snow, the youma sat on the floor huddled into herself shivering. Her wings were frozen solid and sticking out of her back like four thin icicles.

"Yooooouuuuu. Yoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" she shivered angrily.

"Care to take it from here?"

She did, and this time her tiara hit. The youma was gone, but the snow remained, and there was a lot of it.

"Boy Filch is gonna be mad when he see's this," the man commented, his voice playful, familiar.

She looked at him, really looked at him.

"We should probably go before anyone sees us."

But she had seen him, "Harry?"

"Huh?" he stared at blankly, the proverbial deer in the headlights. She knew that look.

"Harry! That is you!"

"Uh, well I uh, um, that is, uh, uh, hi, Hermione."


	31. Chapter 31

Card the moon

Chapter 31 – Conviction tested

…

Disaster. Calamity. Great bloody mess. It had to happen eventually, but why now, why now?

Hermione did not react well to Harry saving her life, once she realized he had saved her life, and what that all meant. Harry hadn't helped of course, stumbling over his tongue like a drunk trying to tap dance. Just, embarrassing, if not slightly funny.

But it was no joke. She'd been on the brink of a breakdown since the broom incident, fighting back tears out of sheer stubbornness. Well now she was crying. Last Luna had seen her she was anyway. And under the circumstances, she couldn't understand why.

This she needed to find out if she ever intended to put her Sailor scout back together.

Now if only that fat cat in the painting would notice she was ignoring him she could get inside.

"Come on already."

The common room was deserted when she entered. She discretely snuck up to the boy's dorm to find the ginger was passed out on his bed surrounded by numerous food wrappers. The wrappers crinkled a bit as something moved beneath it, but that was for later.

Harry hadn't returned to the tower yet. She'd asked him not to come back right away, give her a chance to talk to the girl first. She scampered down the steps then up the opposite set. The tower was essentially empty. The school was essentially empty. It was lucky in a way this had all decided to happen now.

Padding into the dorm, she still wished it hadn't. Hermione sat kneeling next to her bed as though waiting. She didn't look up when Luna came in, but the cat still had the sense she knew she was there.

"Hermione?" she wondered, setting herself in front of the girl.

Said girl said nothing but placed the fancy compact on the floor and pushed it toward Luna.

"And what is this?"

"I won't be needing it anymore. I'm sure Harry will put it to better use than I ever did."

Harry wouldn't be able to use it now that she had, but that was hardly important. "So, you're abandoning me? One tough fight and its quitting time, is that it?"

Her mess of hair hid her face, but Luna had very good ears. Her teeth were clenched so tight as she fought the urge to cry, they practically chattered. "You've found a real warrior; you don't need me anymore."

Oh goodness gracious, the cat thought. Why does she think she has to carry the weight of the world by herself?

"No."

"Wha?" the girl stuttered, unable to comprehend the answer. "But…"

"I said NO!" the cat repeated, very firmly, causing the girl to squeak like a mouse.

"Now you listen to me," the cat continued, stalking angrily up to the much bigger cowering girl. "You are not giving this back because I will not accept it. You promised to help me, and by Serenity, you will not go back on that promise. My Hermione is not a quitter!"

"Wha? But Luna—I, your, I mean," she babbled, unable to cling to a single coherent thread before Luna pounced on them all and got right up in her face.

"NO!" she repeated, "I am talking now, and you are going to listen, and I mean really listen, not just hear, listen."

There was terror in her eyes and she hated to see it, but if this was the only way to drive the point home then so be it, she'd drive it in with her foot shoved straight through the pedal.

"When I met you, I was overjoyed. Of all the people I could have chosen to be Sailor Moon you were perfect. You were smart, dedicated, you actually cared."

She'd had nightmares of some ditzy blonde stumbling her way through life and constantly needing to be saved by an overdressed man with way too many roses to throw.

"It wasn't till we got to Hogwarts I found out all those good qualities came with a few bad ones too. Like the stubbornness of a mule, and a rigidity of thinking that refused to accept any other opinion as valid."

"That's not…" true she doubtless meant to say, but the look from the cat made her swallow the word before it ever saw the light of day.

"You wanted to do it all, do more than any human possibly could, and when a teacher gave you a device that would allow that, you chose to interpret her orders in a way that made it impossible once again. No one can do that much work in that little time. You are one person.

"And you were going to fight youma on top of all that. You were going to work yourself to death before the youma ever got a chance at you. You were asleep on your feet that first week. If I hadn't gone to Harry for help you wouldn't have made it past the third."

"So, he's been helping you all this time?"

The cat didn't miss the bitterness in her tone, and she was having none of that. "NO! He's been helping you all this time."

"What?"

"I told him you needed his help. Not me. You were helping me, but he agreed to help you." The tears were streaming now, but Luna plunged on ahead. "I have put that boy through hell to prepare him. Every morning, up to train, on top of everything else he has to do, and did he complain?"

"Well…"

"Course he did. Almost constantly. But not once did he quit. Not once did he stop. His friend needed him. You know when I found him today, I hadn't even finished explaining what was happening and he was already running down the hall. He's still mad at you about that broom but he heard Hermione and trouble and he was gone."

"Oh—Harry, I…"

She was seconds from a breakdown; it was time to bring it all home.

"I expected a lot from you, I know that, but no more than what I believed you could deliver. But your insistence on making everything harder than it needs to be has to stop. You're an amazing girl, but even amazing girls can only do so much, and there's no reason you have to do it alone. So, you pick that thing up, because you are not giving up on me Hermione Jane Granger." And here Luna got nose to nose with her chosen hero, "And you had better believe, I am not giving up on you."

This was the straw that broke the dam. Months of bottled stress, compacted by her own stubborn refusal to do things any other way but her own, whether that way be right or not, finally came flooding out. It was worse than Luna expected. Worse still was a lack of proper arms to hug with.

She made do the best she could till her girl got it under some semblance of control, "Pick that up," she said, "and come downstairs."

Luna bounced along ahead of her, hoping against hope Harry hadn't gone up to bed. By some stroke of luck, he was just walking in when she stepped into the common room.

"Luna eh—Hermione."

He hesitated, damn it, that is not what she needed him to do. She hopped up to the nearest table and motioned him forward. Reluctantly he did as bade, coming closer to his fragile looking friend than he seemed ready to.

"Harry," said Luna, "I think Hermione has something she'd like to say to you."

And she probably did, it just got lost amidst all the bawling and crying into his chest. Well, it would have to do for. Now, if he'd only put his arms around her like she was trying to pantomime to—there he got it.

He really was a good boy, even if he did stink at charades.

…

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, you said that."

"I'm sorry."

"Hermione, please stop saying that."

*sniffle* "… I'm sorry."

"Hermione."

Crying girls. Curse the god who made crying girls. And double curse the god who decided boys should have to deal with crying girls without giving them anything that might help. Curse a lot of things.

He wanted to be mad at her. He was in a funk, and it was a good funk, deep and dark and depressing. He figured he'd wallow there for a good long while, and why not. Because crying girls. Because she was sorry, and she was crying, and he knew he'd feel like an absolute crumb if he didn't forgive her at least a little.

It hurt to say it, even to think it, but no broom, no matter how good, was worth breaking up a friendship that had been built on the kind of foundation there's had. It wasn't every friendship that started with a troll in a bathroom.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Was he? "I'm not mad," he said. "I'm a little annoyed, but I'm not mad."

"I'm sorry."

"What did I just say about that."

She gave him a soggy smile, "Sorry."

"You are going the right way for a smack bottom, you know that."

She wasn't a girl prone to giggling, but it was still nice to hear. He didn't want to be mad, not really, and he didn't want her to be sad. He'd had enough of that in his life already.

"So, where'd you get that fancy outfit?" she asked, since everything else of import seemed to have been discussed.

"Oh that, that was a gift from Luna."

"Luna," she looked at the cat.

"Not me," said the cat.

"No, the other Luna."

"How many Luna's are there?"

Now it was Harry's turn to express some mirth, "Hermione, there is a lot going on this year."

"Speaking of, what was that spell you used that conjured up all the snow?"

This time Harry laughed aloud, "A lot going on this year."


	32. Chapter 32

Card the moon

Chapter 32 – It must be

…

The holidays were wrapping up and there was a buzz about Hogwarts yet again. The twitter of conversation filled the halls as everyone chattered about what they'd done, where they'd been, and how the next term was going to go for them.

The energy was infectious, probably why Professor Snape was hiding in the dungeons. Such an infection at his age and temperament would probably be fatal. Everyone else seemed to have caught it already. Everyone that is except Professor Jade.

His holiday had been anything but. It was supposed to be simple, but no. The dark syndicate had run into some opposition, the kind that was systematically picking off their youma. He could have told Nephrite to deal with it himself, but you didn't play Negaverse politics without learning the value of a favor owed.

After this debacle Nephrite was going to owe him more than a few.

He'd supervised a few jobs, nothing major. Moving some goods illegally, not paying tariffs between countries, killing anyone who saw them, little stuff like that. The fourth night of doing this is when everything went banana shaped.

They were just loading up when she appeared, standing silhouetted in the moonlight in a skirt much too short for such a young girl but with exactly the amount of ribbons and bows you'd expect from such a young girl. She announced herself as Sailor V, and then proceeded to annihilate every youma in the warehouse.

It was a touch insulting how quickly she went through his henchman, not that he tried to help them. It was one little girl, who shot laser beams from her fingertips. Several times he thought he saw someone skulking around the perimeter of the fight, but he could never get a good look and by the time he was close enough the fight was over.

They didn't even take anything.

Nephrite showed up around an hour later to check on things and found him sitting in the middle of a deserted warehouse. He'd come on all snarky and annoyed till Jadeite told him what had happened. That had curdled his milk quick.

Neither of them had heard of a Sailor V, but they both knew what a Sailor scout was. If they were calling themselves dumb names in a very poor attempt to keep their identity secret that was all well and good, but it didn't change the fact someone who was supposed to be ten thousand years dead was apparently walking around killing youma.

They had to tell Beryl. Neither wanted to be the one to do it. In the end, it was Nephrite's operation so he got to do it, but Jadeite, as yet another favor he could hold over his head, gave his fellow general his backup plan. Cheesecake.

Beryl had been quite notorious for her sweet tooth back in the day. One of the things they'd all been instructed to watch for was something to feed that sweet tooth. Jadeite had brought back a few basics, chocolate and such, but he'd held off on the really good stuff to use in an emergency.

He hadn't survived ten thousand years by running head long into things and hoping for the best. A good plotter always had a few side plots on the backburner, just in case the current one turned into a piece of fruit, and the only reason he'd given Nephrite his backup plan was because he had others, plus there was little to be gained if Nephrite was killed now.

If it became convenient later, that was different, but for now he had as much use for his fellow general as his fellow general did for him. So long as it was Nephrite who gave Beryl the bad news.

Now back in his office at Hogwarts, nursing a glass of not nearly strong enough alcohol he pondered darkly on his own predicament. The youma he'd left to watch his office was gone, destroyed he had no doubt, though he hadn't bothered to look for her.

Knowing there were Sailor scouts about put this and all the others into a whole new context. Is that what he'd been dealing with? If so, who was it. The number of people who'd stayed over the holidays was very short. Only two of them were female, but was that a factor that needed to be considered?

The Sailor scouts in the past had all been princesses, a trait that seemed unlikely in any contemporary scouts. And that of course was assuming it was a Sailor scout. All he could be certain of was they must have been in the castle when this last youma was destroyed.

His list had suddenly grown much shorter.

A knock at his door interrupted his brooding, and he schooled his features into a curious neutrality before calling, "Come in,"

"Professor Jade," said the scruffy face attached to the scruffy head that poked in past the door.

"Professor Lupin," the werewolf. "Please, come in. How can I help you?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow one of your classrooms periodically this term. One of the bigger ones."

"I'm sure it could be arranged, but what for."

"A bit of private tutelage. Trying to teach one of my students a bit of advanced magic."

"Anyone I know?"

The wolf man chuckled at his little joke, "Harry."

"Potter?"

"That's right."

"And what are you trying to teach him."

"Well, it's no secret he's particularly effected by the dementors."

Not with that Malfoy boy making such a production. The dementors had no effect on him of course, his inherent magic was too powerful for such a weak aura of fear to get through.

"I'm going to try and teach him the Patronus charm."

"Not familiar with that one," said Professor Jade with interest. "Is it very difficult."

"It is advanced magic," said Lupin, "and requires a focused mind."

"Not something most teenagers are well known for, wouldn't you say?"

Lupin again chuckled, but the proposition had Jadeite's interest. Potter was among those who had remained. Perhaps he'd written the boy off too quickly. Could he have hidden depths he simply wasn't showing off. If he 'knew' that would certainly be the smart thing to do.

"Of course, Professor Lupin. It's no problem at all. I just wonder, would it be possible for me to sit in on these lessons. It sounds like a fascinating piece of magic."

"I don't see why not," said Lupin. "I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind."

"Wonderful, wonderful. I look forward to learning all I can."


	33. Chapter 33

Card the moon

Chapter 33 – From Mercury with love

…

The library was crowded, it was expected. All those who hadn't done their homework over the holiday were scrambling to do it now. She knew they would be; it was expected. And why not, it happened every other year. It really made no sense either. They knew they had it, knew they had to do it, knew when they had to do it, and yet…

"Are you done with that book yet?"

"I need it next."

"Has anyone seen the complete history of cheese spells?"

Absurd. It was like they expected things to have changed while they weren't looking so they wouldn't have to do it. Wishful thinking at its most self-destructive. If one was going to have expectations, they should be realistic. Su Li knew all about that, expectations.

The expectations for her had been made very clear early in her life. Do well, be good, don't embarrass the family. It was simple, straight forward, uncomplicated. She never understood it. That's not to say she didn't do it.

It was an easy thing to do in Ravenclaw. No other house allowed you to so easily disappear if you wished to keep no company but your own. Not to say all Ravenclaw's were solitary bibliophiles as some had suggested, but if one did want to be left alone, the best house to be in was Ravenclaw.

Su Li did not 'want' to be alone, but it was a condition she had come to accept. It was easier. It was safer. Except when there were monsters roaming the halls.

"Well this defies expectations."

The library had been crowded; she'd escaped as quickly as possible with the big, obscure charms book. The hallway was empty, abandoned, or so it had seemed. It was out of the way and seldom used, the perfect place to be alone.

So why was there a strange, disfigured, female-ish knight standing over her twiddling its fingers at her? She'd spent enough time at Hogwarts to know to expect a bit of nonsense once and a while, but this was pushing it.

"What are you doing?"

The knight strained and grunted, she feared it was about to make a mess out the back end.

"Why can't I suck you?" it groaned like it was clenching as hard as it possibly could, possibly more than was strictly good for it.

"I really don't know," and why would she? "Have you considered using a straw?" she added helpfully.

If she'd seen what the last youma who was asked that question did, she might not have felt so helpful.

"Die!"

Su screamed when the thing lunged at her. Her small lithe frame giving her the dodge advantage she narrowly avoided the assaulting hands.

"Stand still!"

"No!"

When big metal people things try to grab you the last thing you want to do was stand still. Regrettably for Su, Hogwarts floors were very smooth, and her nice shoes were not made for running. She skidded and slipped in her attempts to escape but it was only delaying the inevitable.

The heavy faux knight had superior traction, superior strength, and only had to get lucky once. She yelped when she caught a backhand that sent her into the wall, dropping to the floor like a tiny sack of potatoes. She groaned weakly as her assailant stomped up and lifted her like a ragdoll, pinning her to the wall by the throat.

"Now, one more time. Why can't I get at your lifeforce? How are you blocking me?"

"I—don't, know," she whimpered, hurting too much to even think about what she was being asked. Lifeforce? Blocking? What?

"You're only making it worse for yourself," the creature said, squeezing like she intended to crush her throat.

Sheer animal panic surged through the tiny east Asian girl, supercharging her tiny body with incredibly strength for her size, which helped not at all, but did trigger something else. Something older, deeper. Something that had been waiting several millennia and more incarnations than you could shake a pretty pink magical rod at to finally be activated again.

An emblem shone, radiating light like a beacon from her forehead. The creature recoiled, losing its grip, and leaving her briefly hovering in midair. The immediate threat passed, that being choked to death, the power faded, and she fell again to the floor with a tiny squeak.

"What—what was that?" the creature demanded but didn't wait for her attempt to answer. "I don't know what you are, but I ain't taking any chances."

A single metallic hand crunched, reshaped itself into a more claw like form, hard sharp edges. "You die, now!"

"I don't think so."

The metal helmet head turned just in time to take a flying kick from a heeled boot, worn by a girl in an immodestly short skirt. The effect was far greater than one would expect, giving the general size and density of the armor and the kicking girl.

The knight toppled to the ground and the girl landed with surprising grace, especially for someone in heels.

"I think I'm finally getting the hang of that," she said proudly, frowning when she noticed Su staring at her. "Are you alright?"

The armor making its feet gave her no time to answer, as it had questions of its own, "Who the hell are you?"

The girl trembled at the question, her hands clenching like she was trying to hold something in, but the ghost of Shakespeare will not be denied.

"I am Sailor Moon. Champion of Love and Justice. Attacking young schoolgirls going about their education is an unforgivable act that will not be tolerated. In the name of the moon, I shall punish you."

"Oh yeah!"

Dark energy crackled around its hands and a sparking ball of violet lightning sprang to life and flew at the one called Sailor Moon. With the agility of a figure skater she dodged then charged at the thing.

Su had no idea what she was going to do, that kick didn't seem to have done much if it was throwing lightning balls around. She should help. She should help?

What was she thinking? Not only was she in considerable pain, but even if she wasn't, what could she do against a suit of armor that could fling lightning balls. This was not something Professor Lupin had covered in defense. If she survived this, she might have to ask him about it.

"Hey, you there."

Su looked down at the addressing voice, finding a black cat with a crescent moon on her forehead.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you want to help?" the cat asked without preamble.

She did, for some crazy reason, but, "What can I do?"

The cat smile, which is totally a thing cats do, just ask any Alice. They can also do backflips that magically conjure little blue rods with funny symbols on their heads.

"Hold that above your head and say Mercury Power, Make up."

"What?" Too much, it was just too much. She could only handle so much nonsense.

The sound of someone getting hit and skidding across the floor forced her to reconsider this position.

"Alright, here goes," deep breath. "MERCURY POWER, MAKE UP!"

…

"Oh, ugh, that's going to sting in the morning," it stung right now too.

"So, Master Jadeite was right. There are Sailor scouts at Hogwarts," the youma gabbed as she sauntered closer to the scrambling heroine.

"Did he now? That's interesting," or would be later, when she was back in Gryffindor tower and not about to die horribly.

"He said we should tell him if we saw any of you. I'm sure he doesn't need you to be alive though. Any last words."

"Mercury, Bubbles, Blast!"

"I didn't say that."

The flood of bubbles surged around them becoming a thick mist that hid the two from each other.

"Hey. No fair. Where'd you go?"

That was a very good question, thought Sailor Moon. She wasn't given long to ponder it though. A hand gently tapped her shoulder and Sailor Moon looked up a small girl in a bluer version of her own outfit.

"Who're you?"

"Sailor Mercury," the girl whispered, helping her to her feet. "Luna said you'd be able to finish it if I could get you some space."

Sailor Moon smiled, "You bet I can. Watch this." Lift, twirl, pause, "Moon, Tiara, Magic!"

The glowing discus flew unerringly through the mist. Unable to see it, the youma had no way to dodge and was dispatched as so many before had been.

"Moon dusted."

"Really? Is that what happened?"

Sailor Moon gave an embarrassed grin at the other girl who stared at her with genuine curiosity. "Eh he, um, well, technically."

"It's just a thing she says," Luna interrupted, padding up to them as the mist cleared.

"Oh, I see," the girl said.

"Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry. Ghost of Shakespeare, I swear."

"Sure it is," said her evil traitorous cat.

"I see… well, actually, no I don't. What was that thing? What is—this?" she said, gesturing at her dreadfully immodest outfit. "Just what is going on!"

Hermione smiled, what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she placed her hands on the distressed girl's shoulder. "Don't worry. I can explain everything," she said excitedly to her new comrade.

She practically skipped back to the tower that evening. "I can't wait to tell Harry. He'll be so excited."

Or he would have been if he hadn't been a groaning mass on the couch. She tried to channel her exuberance in the time-tested way of poking him till he reacted, but it was no good, he just didn't appreciate her excitement.

"I see your lessons with Lupin went well."

He didn't appreciate her cheek either.


	34. Chapter 34

Card the moon

Chapter 34 – Sky fox

…

"Okay, we all agree, Wood is crazy."

There was round of nods from her fellow Chasers, both of whom looked as wore out as she felt.

"He does know it's still winter, right?"

"I don't think such minor details are a concern for our 'beloved' captain."

"Can you really consider a sore on your bum 'beloved'?"

The trio tittered; they did that a lot when discussing Wood. They also did a lot of bitching, griping, and whining when talking about Wood. He was just that kinda guy.

"I'll bet I know what set him off," said Angelina as she threw her scarf around.

"Oh, do tell," said Alicia.

"It's long and hard and it belonged to Harry."

"Belongs to Harry," said Katie. "Just because they won't let him have it…" she added grumpily.

"Hard to believe though. An honest to Merlin Firebolt," said Angelina, speaking the name with all appropriate pomp and reverence.

"If he gets it back before the game with Ravenclaw we are gonna trounce them."

"I don't know," Angelina sing-songed. "I've seen Chang. She might give him some trouble."

"Angie please. Even on one of those school brooms Harry could still beat Chang."

"I'm sure he could, if he doesn't lose his head."

"Just what are you on about," said Alicia.

"Well, she is kinda cute, and he is at that age when he'll start noticing that she's kinda cute. A girl could do a lot worse."

"Angelina Johnson, you are terrible."

The terrible one laughed at the accusation, "Maybe, but it doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Oh, you're wrong. Don't go projecting your depravity on sweet innocent Harry," said Alicia, giving the other girl a good poke.

"Oh, my depravity? Shall we tell Katie what I read in your diary the other night?"

"You would—why you, get back here!"

Cackling like a madwoman and growling like a she-bear her teammates raced out of the locker room.

"It's not fair they still have so much energy," the half-dressed Katie complained, flopping down on the nearest bench.

She shouldn't be napping; the bench was cold, but she was sooooooooo tired. People don't realize how much work goes into staying on a tiny stick flying through the air, and the locker rooms were so nice and toasty after the winter cold.

"Mmmmm, Harry," she mumbled, a bit erotically, though it totally wasn't you guys, honest.

She wasn't as innocent as she liked to think Harry was, but she wasn't a dirty little pervert like Angelina, or Alicia by the sound of it. Thinking of her fellow chasers, she figured she ought to catch up with them, or run the risk of walking back to the castle with the twins, they of all the bad puns.

She blinked groggily, then stared at the fingers being twiddled in front of her face. Hadn't expected that.

"Hello?"

"Don't mind me," said the strange female with a spider for her bottom half. "I'm just trying to suck your life force."

"Uh huh," sounded kinda dirty. "How's that going then?"

The woman scrunched her face and twiddled harder, "Not as well as I would like."

"Maybe a straw would help?"

She might not have made the suggestion if she weren't so tired. But if she weren't so tired she would have taken one look at the thing hanging from the ceiling and screamed like any other self-respecting girl, not stared in wonder at the surreal tableau of a woman that had a spider for a butt.

The pair of strong hands wrapping around her throat brought things into proper focus.

"Why you little," the spider woman cursed.

"Was it something I said," Katie choked out.

Her attacker didn't seem keen on clearing that point up as she was fully focused on wringing the chaser's neck like a terrier with a particularly unfortunate rat. Death stared through those vicious eyes and something broke through, something old, powerful, and shocking.

The symbol glowing on her forehead was of less interest than the sudden surge that ripped through the spider woman like an overpowered taser. She couldn't let go fast enough, in large part due to the way being electrocuted robs one of their fine motor skills, which also killed her attachment to the ceiling, at which point gravity got ahold of her.

"Why you little brat!" the spider woman cursed, twitching as she rose off the cold stone floor. "I'm gonna…"

"Your gonna what?"

A hard crack echoed off the lockers and the spider woman was knocked prone. Towering over her, Katie couldn't help but blush. The fine cut of his cloths and the stoic glare he leveled at her attacker filled her with the warm fuzzies.

"Are you alright Katie?"

Katie? Oh, right, that was her, "I, uh, I guess I'm…" what was the question again?

"Lousy, cheap shotting—you're gonna pay for that pal," the spider woman snapped, interrupting the chasers clumsy babbling.

The man in the bowler and mask smirked, the kind of smirk that drove to madness whoever it was pointed at, "A gentleman always makes good his debts," he said. "Come and collect."

Smirk fired, witty remark launched, the spider woman flew into an incoherent fury and leapt to the ceiling. The masked gentleman danced back as she leapt at him, muttering something Katie couldn't quite make out. A long, clawed hand raked at him, missing by several feet when she somehow appeared several feet back in her flight trajectory.

She saw the look of surprise on the spider woman's face as she passed by again, and both heard quite plainly when he shouted, "POWER!" The impact of his cane was like a ten-ton sledge, smashing the spider woman into the bank of lockers, which were also smashed under such force.

"Oops," he said, looking bashfully at Katie. "Might have overdone it a little."

He hadn't. The spider woman lunged, catching him off guard; his mighty strike doing far less damage than it appeared. They rolled just out of sight past the other bank of lockers, leaving Katie momentarily dumbfounded.

Ever quick to adapt, like any good chaser, she tried to remember where she had put her wand. Once that was found, she tried to remember any spell that might help. Then she tried to remember any spell at all. Then she tried to figure out why Hermione Granger's cat was staring at her.

"You were planning to help?" the cat asked.

"Uh, I was, I think?" why was the cat talking.

"I think this might be of more use." Why was the cat doing backflips? Why was the pretty green rod falling into 'her' hands?

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Hold it over your head and shout, Jupiter Power, Make up!"

"… when did I fall into cuckoo land?"

The cat grinned, very Cheshire, "If it helps, just pretend you've fallen on your head."

The chaser returned the cats grin, "Wouldn't be the first time." When in crazy town, "JUPITER, POWER, MAKE UP!"

"I gonna rip that face right off your mask," screamed the spider woman, clawing at the infuriatingly nimble masked man.

"You may have that backwards," he said, scraping past another vicious sickle swipe, "or maybe not."

There was little coordination to her assault, but the strength of her attacks tore through lockers and smashed benches with every strike, leaving the masked man no space to counterattack. Reprieve came in the form of two high heeled boots attached to a pair of very nice legs planting a flying dropkick on the spider woman's face.

She slammed into the wall, which took impact much better than lockers, but slightly worse than spider women. The flying kicker managed a not so graceful landing, nearly breaking an ankle as she landed on her toes, since her heels remained further off the ground than she was used to.

"Who ever thought fighting in heels was a good idea," she complained.

"Probably someone that got kicked like that by someone wearing heels," the masked man pointed out.

"Oh," the spider woman was just pulling herself out of the wall, staggering drunkenly with a nasty dent on the point of impact, "I suppose."

"Ought to finish her off, miss?"

"Oh, uh…" what was she supposed to be called.

"Masked Gentleman," said the magically appearing feline, "meet Sailor Jupiter."

"Charmed I'm sure."

It wasn't normally in her nature to blush, nor was she prone to tittering, much; but when a gentleman kisses a ladies hand, there are only a few acceptable ways to react, and slapping him across the face didn't really feel appropriate under the circumstances.

"If you two are done flirting," the spider woman groaned, looking like she could have spared them a few more moments just for her own sake.

"So how do we do this? Kick and punch till she stays down?"

The gentleman shook his head, "You have a magic attack. Use it."

"Oh… how?"

"You just know, I guess."

She knew? She did know now that she thought about it. The words filled her mind like they'd always been there. "Neat."

"She's all yours."

"Jupiter, Thunder, Crash!"

The power electric leapt from the newly minted Sailor scout, smashing the spider like a giant fist, coursing through every part, including the black crystal that was her very core. When the lightning ceased there was nothing left to indicate she'd ever been there but a bit of black dust, and the severely damaged locker room.

"That—that was," Katie panted, unable to express in mere words.

"Pretty good, all told," the feline offered. "Wouldn't you say Harry."

"Harry!" was she saying?

"Uh…"

Grabbing the retreating man by the head she looked past the mask, deep into his sparkling green eyes. "Harry!"

'Harry' gave a defeated sigh, "Why did she even include the mask? It does nothing."


	35. Chapter 35

Card the moon

Chapter 35 – You tell her

…

"You know something, I'm beginning to wish that damn seal had never broken."

"Do tell."

Reclining in a half stuffed squashy chair, Jadeite watched his fellow general pace the floor as he went on his philosophical rant. It had been a rough week.

"When we were trapped in the Negaverse, we understood the situation. You knew how to tiptoe around the queen, what to say, what not to say, what you never wanted to hear. Now—I, I, I just don't know anymore.

"We always bragged about what we'd do when we got out, and I have done like, one of those things."

When you were locked up in a confined space for eons with little to do but speculate on what you'd do when you got out, it was easy to be overambitious. Though Jadeite found it hard to disagree with Nephrite. He'd gotten maybe two off his own list, and that list was more than two…hundred…pages.

"I think we'd all feel better if there wasn't the potential for a certain group to still be running around," Jadeite said, taking a sip of liquor much stronger than anything he felt safe keeping in his desk in Hogwarts.

"I don't understand how she does it," Nephrite said, picking up the thread like a desperate tailor. "The magical police force hasn't been able to track us so effectively. How can one little girl? I don't care if she does have help. It shouldn't be possible. At least yours are all in that castle, that makes sense. How's that going by the way?"

Jadeite sipped his drink, slowly. "Bad."

"Weren't you checking one of your students; um, Mason or something?"

"Potter."

"Yeah, him. Well?"

Jadeite brooded while Nephrite tossed himself across the divan, "I may, have underestimated him in my original assessment."

"So he's our youma slayer?"

"Yuhgura… I don't know," he struggled out like forcing a turd with too little fiber.

"You said you underestimated him."

"He's been receiving private tutelage from the defense professor since school resumed. He has a particularly strong reaction to those floating fear cloaks looking for that escaped convict. The spell he's trying to learn is very advanced, used to drive them off."

"I take it he's doing well."

Jadeite made a noncommittal sound through his drink, "Not as well as he would like if I'm right, but Lupin seems impressed."

"So what's the problem? Throw a youma or two at him."

"I have, or at least I think I have."

"Why do you think? What part of this requires you to think?"

"It's not that simple," he said crossly. "In order to maintain my cover, I have certain duties that must be performed, classes, homework to grade. Do you have any idea how hard it was to learn seven years' worth of history? I can't just sit there and watch them."

"Alright, alright," Nephrite placated, "I still don't understand the problem. I assume their being destroyed."

"Yes. So are all the others. There is the problem."

"You mean he couldn't be destroying all of them."

"At least three were destroyed while he was attending these sessions, and since I was there as well, his alibi is about as airtight as it can get."

"So, it isn't him."

"I'm not entirely convinced of that."

"Now you're just being contrary," said Nephrite, draining his long, tall glass in a single gulp. "Or are you suggesting there's more than one."

The blonde flinched, scowling at the brunette, "Don't say that."

"But you are, aren't you? You've as much as said it."

"Doesn't mean I like it," he grumbled. "We know their alive, yours is evidence enough of that. Somehow, someway they survived. The line of Serenity continues."

"If that's true…"

"Yes, I know."

If it was true it meant a lot of things, not least among them, Senshi, the queens personal power squad, the infamous Sailor scouts.

"It—it couldn't be them, not the real ones. We killed them. You know we did; you were there."

He did know, he was there, "Even if it's a new batch just using their powers, that's enough."

"We can kill them again."

"Can we?" Jadeite wasn't so sure. "Last time we did it we had a near endless horde to throw at them. Ten thousand years may have thinned their power, but it has thinned us as well. That endless horde isn't so endless anymore. I can see the end, and it is hungry, starving."

"You're not wrong about that. Even with so many being destroyed there's no shortage of volunteers for a mission. Their getting desperate. No matter what we do, we can't seem to bring back enough energy to calm them."

"Ten thousand years is a long fast. Without Metallia to sustain us…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Without the 'blessing' of the dark goddess they wouldn't have survived the first thousand years, never mind the following nine.

"You understand why I haven't told her then. The schools too crowded and busy. I won't go blaming Senshi till I have absolute confirmation. For now, I'll try to keep tabs on Potter. He's the closest thing I have to a solid lead."

"What about the two girls you said stayed over the holiday. If it is a Senshi it's bound to be one of them."

"If it is, I can practically guarantee it is not a Senshi. The Weasley girl is all talk, and Granger," and the mere thought of the bushy haired girl made him chuckle darkly, "Granger is much like you, far too much into her books."

The bookish general made a great production of being so put upon by this remark, "I take great exception to that. How dare you sir. How dare you."

"Oh yes, how dare I," Jadeite teased. "The point is, the girl is attempting to take every class offered, which is too more classes than is realistically possible. There are only so many hours in a day Nephrite. Unless she's managed to find a few more, I think we can count her out."

…

"You know, I always wondered what it would be like to have more hours in a day."

"I didn't. The ones I already had were usually bad enough."

Katie looked at her dark-haired seeker quizzically, "I feel like that was a crack at me."

"You Sunshine, never."

"Yeah, I bet," she argued viciously with her toe.

"Ah, come on, alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he begged under such assault.

"That'll teach ya to sass me."

"I have learned a lesson I shall not soon forget… ack! Come on Katie."

The blonde giggled and withdrew her foot. "It's hard to believe, I mean even with magic."

"You think it's hard for you. I got all this at three in the morning. At least your awake."

It was past curfew as they sat in the common room, everyone else had wandered off to bed except Luna who lay nearby dozing quietly. She'd been awake for a while but seemed to have nodded off when Harry had gotten around to explaining the Clow cards.

"I can't believe no ones caught on yet. Makes you question that whole 'safest place in Britain' dun it?"

"I was questioning that my first year here, lest we forget the troll on Halloween, or the third-floor corridor we were never to go in unless we wished to die a painful death."

"Wish I knew what was down there. We spent weeks guessing after Dumbledore made that announcement."

"Lot of stuff."

"… what, you mean you went in there?"

"In there, down there; there was a lot of space."

"Well! Details!" she said, squirming with barely contained excitement.

"Aw, Katie, it's late."

"You started it. Come on, you're supposed to be reading me in. Well, keep reading."

"I'm pretty sure what we were doing first year doesn't count."

"It does if I says it does," she argued 'logically'. "So come on boy, story time, go."

Grumbling and groaning he did as told. It may have been unfair but this was the most time she'd ever gotten to spend with Harry, and if she was going to be fighting demons with him, she fully intended to know as much about his as possible. That was it, she absolutely had no ulterior motive, none whatsoever, nope. No matter what Angeline or Alicia might say if they ever found out.


	36. Chapter 36

Card the Moon

Chapter 36 – Hard lessons

…

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

"That's it Harry. Focus."

Easier said than done.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what Lupin was trying to do, it's just telling him what he already knew wasn't terribly helpful. He knew he needed to focus; he was focusing. His butt cheeks were clenched so tight he wouldn't be able to poop for hours. It wasn't helping.

"Alright and, I've got it. _Riddikulus_!"

The balloon whistled like a weak fart as it zipped back into the trunk, booming closed like an overdramatic coffin. Professor Jade applauded the performance.

"You know I never get tired of that part," he grinned.

Lupin chuckled, "Alright there Harry?"

"Yeah, sure," he panted, feeling as though he might be fibbing a bit.

"You're doing very well."

"Doesn't feel like it." He was only able to conjure a barely corporeal shield so far, and it was just enough to hold the faux dementor back. "It's supposed to be able to drive it off."

"You're making great progress," the worn looking man insisted. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I can't imagine anyone else your age doing so well."

"I wanna try again," said Harry. "One more time."

"Do you think it will make a difference," said Professor Jade.

"I have to practice. I have to be ready."

"Yes, I understand that. What I mean is, what are you going to accomplish doing it again now. You haven't suddenly developed more focus, have you?"

"Well, no," he hesitated to admit.

"Rest would be best," said Lupin. "Your obviously tired, that makes it hard to focus. The only other thing you might try is a different memory."

"A different memory," again, easier said than done.

He'd spent a lot of time trying to think of a happy memory. He had so few, he thought it would be easy. He'd gone through most of them and woken up feeling worse after each one failed. The elation of his first flight was what he was currently using.

"Perhaps I didn't explain this bit well," considered Lupin. "The memory itself isn't so important. It's the emotion that's key. When did you feel the most—full, of happiness? What thing do you think back on that still gives you that warm glow of joy?"

Warm glow? An odd choice of words, but one that conjured a very clear picture. Blonde hair, startled expression, a pair of warm lips against his cheek. It was confusing, just like her, but it made him feel—fuzzy, but in a good way.

"I—I think I've got something. Let's try again."

"Alright. Ready? One, two…"

The chest opened, the 'dementor' appeared. His mother's pleading voice echoed in his mind but he drown it out, pushed it away as he drew up the clear image, the fuzziness.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

Light erupted from his wand, the faux dementor pushed against it but failed. Then it began falling back; something animal looking appeared vaguely defined, but before it could do more, Lupin slammed the trunk shut.

"Well done Harry!"

"I, I did it. I did it? I did it!"

"Yes," Lupin chuckled, "you did it. You pushed it back."

"I—I thought I saw something, before you closed the trunk."

"And with time, you'll see a great deal more. Even a partial manifestation is remarkable. I'm very proud of you Harry."

If he hadn't already been flying high, that simple comment would have sent him through the roof. No one had ever said they were proud of him. It was the sort of thing a father would say.

"Would it be rude to ask what her name was?" asked Professor Jade.

"Huh?"

"The girl you were thinking about."

"What," Harry sputtered. "How did you, I mean why would you…"

The blonde academic snickered, "Well, you are at that age. I just thought, stands to reason."

"Ah, yes, I see what you mean," Lupin jumped in. "However confounding we may find them, you can't deny they do rather fill one with a warm glow, don't you think Harry?"

"I, uh, I wouldn't, uh, that is I, I never, I…" he needed to stop talking till he could form a sentence that wasn't half I.

At least his teachers found it amusing, the sniggering jackasses.

"I uh, I think that's enough for tonight, don't you Harry?" Lupin chuckled.

"Yeah," sniggering jackass.

"Oh now, don't give us that look," he placated, "it's all in good fun. Here," he said, handing over a block of Honeydukes finest. "Eat that. It'll help. I'll see you in class."

He nibbled his chocolate as he left the classroom, trying to put their teasing out of his mind. Trying, but not succeeding. It wasn't that he was upset ah—okay so he was a little upset, but he got over that bit quickly. It was what they implied that captured his imagination.

Girls. A more exotic and strange sort of creature man has never found. He knew on some level Hermione was a girl, but it was hard to think of her like that. She'd always just been—Hermione. He made a mental note never to tell her that.

His only real other experience with girls was Ginny Weasley, and the less said about that the better. It wasn't that he didn't know girls, half his cohort were girls. But the amount of time he'd spent talking to Lavender or Parvati could be counted in hours on the fingers of one hand. Unless Luna, the cat, counted, but she felt more like a teacher and females of that variety were a whole different category of thing, they weren't girls.

But Luna, not the cat, she was a girl. He'd never been under the impression she wasn't a girl, like Hermione. From the moment he met her she was a girl. It hadn't been so complicated then though. He hadn't put any thought into the fact she was a girl. Girl hadn't seemed all that important.

Then she'd kissed him.

If that didn't mess with your head nothing would. Kissing, it was a thing; it was a thing he'd seen his aunt and uncle do and like most things his aunt and uncle did it had seemed repulsive.

As he sat down under the suit of armor to finish his chocolate, he had to concede he'd not given it a fair chance. Obviously, his aunt and uncle were married, and as much as he may have loathed them, he was at least certain they loved each other. It wasn't much of a stretch to assume they would behave like they did.

And that thought, taken to its logical conclusion, turned his face very bright. Love. Kisses. Love and kisses. Kisses and love.

"What does it all mean," he moaned through his chocolate.

Did Luna love him? Was it 'that' kind of love? Was she saying she liked him as a friend, since it was just on the cheek? Was that permission for him to kiss her back. What? WHAT!

"Why does life have to be so complicated?" and he thought youma and Clow cards were as hard as it could get.

The truth was far more sinister, subtle, and devious. Girls. They seemed so mundane, till you stopped to think about them, then the whole world was just turned on its head. It was just so insane.

Speaking of insane.

"Waaaaaaaaaagh!"

Calmly he watched as the human shaped thing went screaming by. "Hmm. If I'm not mistaken that was some sort of youma—and it was on fire—and it didn't like being on fire."

Now this was a sort of insane he could handle.

Barely a moment later a girlish looking creature made of fire went sweeping by, in pursuit of the youma by the look of it. And barley a moment after that a girl came running by.

"Hullo Harry," she shouted as she dashed past, rod in hand and plushy in pursuit.

"Hmm," he hmmed. "I could go help her. Doesn't really look like she needs it."

Actually, it looked like the card had the youma well in hand, and he had little doubt Luna had the card well in hand. The only reason to follow her would have nothing to do with either youma or Clow cards.

"Hmm, nope. I don't think I'm ready for that conversation."

Any conversation with Luna required your full attention, if you didn't want to get left behind, and after his latest revelation he felt he needed to consult some kind of expert before he could be in the quirky blonde's presence without making a bigger fool of himself than usual.

"I wonder if the twins are busy?"


	37. Chapter 37

Card the moon

Chapter 37 – Blood and conquest

…

Time, as they say, flies when you are having fun. And anyone can tell you how it drags when you're not. Strange sort of creature time, part eagle, part slug, and all chameleon, since no one who's ever gone looking for it has ever managed to find it.

For Harry, who was constantly busy with something, the weeks approaching the quidditch match with Ravenclaw passed at a rapid pace. Youma, if good for nothing else, were excellent time fillers.

He wouldn't have thought much of it, if it didn't seem like they were stalking him; not like they usually stalked whoever happened by, but him specifically. It was a bit unsettling, like they'd figured out what he'd been doing.

Luna however, very helpfully pointed out if they did know it was him, they wouldn't need to stalk, they could just go up to the tower at night and smother him in his sleep. Helpful.

He was, ultimately, speaking to the cat again, begrudgingly.

The same couldn't be said for Ron and Hermione. He'd tried reasoning with his friend, which was similar to reasoning with the back end of a mule.

Ron hadn't gotten the tearful apology like Harry, but it wasn't his broom either. It was Harry's, for a few glorious seconds.

He was lucky, in some ways, having youma and Clow cards to distract him. They kept him from fixating on his confiscated broom. Not to say there wasn't fixation, Wood was very fixated.

He'd gotten quite the chewing out from McGonagall when he'd gone to her and tried to demand the broom back. That's right, demand the broom back, from McGonagall. Take a moment to let that sink in. Yeah, not his best idea.

And as days passed, the anointed time grew closer with no news, it looked like he'd have to buy a new broom or play Ravenclaw on one of the school's brooms. The best thing that could be said of the ancient Shooting stars was that they could fly, beyond that they were good for little but tidying up the floor.

He finally broke down, went looking for the catalogue. He was good but he wasn't a miracle worker. On his way to the owlery, he bumped into McGonagall, who was looking for him.

"Well, here it is. They couldn't find anything on it, so I see no reason not to return it to you."

He was dumbstruck, awestruck, angels sang in glorious chorus. His Firebolt. He took it with religious reverence, hardly believing it was true. Standing next to him Ron was having trouble operating the motor to his mouth, it was stuck on open.

"You'll let me have a go on it, won't you?" was the first thing that came out once he got it working again.

Harry didn't say he would, he was too busy smiling. Even the usual challenge from Sir Cadogan was ignored in favor of the magnificence held in his hand. Nothing could bring him down.

A notion that was challenged when Ron saw Hermione and wanted to go rub it in her face. Too happy to have his Firebolt returned he handed it off to Ron and sent him up to their dorm in order to keep the peace.

"I see you got it back," said Hermione as he approached her.

"Yep."

"That's good, I suppose."

"Mm, hm."

"I—I appreciate you not letting him come over here. He can be so childish about things sometimes."

"He's not perfect. Like someone else I know."

She flinched. Turning so he could see just enough of her face to tell how tired she was, anything she might have said was cut off by a ruckus from up the stairs, followed by the pounding of steps as Ron came thundering down.

"She did it! She finally did it!" he screamed right at Hermione.

"What are you talking about. I haven't done anything."

"That great brute of yours killed Scabbers. He's gone, and there's blood all over my sheets. She killed him."

It was a serious accusation, which Hermione was quick to deny. She gave numerous excuses, even told him to check under his bed. This only made things worse. Harry of course knew Luna hadn't eaten Scabbers. But there was no good way to explain that to Ron without telling him a lot of other things which he was definitely in no mood to hear.

It was hard to wrap the head around it. Ron had oft complained on how useless his rat was, it was how Harry had been introduced to the vermin. But none of that mattered now that he was gone. He may have been a hand me down, but he was Ron's, and to someone with so little that meant a lot.

Harry thought he understood. He'd felt similarly when his Nimbus was destroyed, he still had the pieces stowed in the bottom of his trunk. His Nimbus would never fly again, and Scabbers would never return.

The twins tried to cheer him up, in their own little way. But all their carrying on was a raindrop in a tempest, compared with what Harry could do.

Practice that day was an absolute treat. It would be the last one before the Ravenclaw game and Harry's first time on his Firebolt.

"Come on Harry, time to see if it lives up to the hype," said Katie, as they all stood around waiting to see.

Wood released the snitch, and the chase was on. Then the chase was over. The broom was just that fast. He released the snitch again, gave it a bit of a head start then went after it. It was almost unfair, and he kept on doing it.

The energy must have been contagious because the rest of the team was fully dialed in, pulling stunts like he'd rarely seen before. The presence of the Firebolt was getting everyone excited. Except perhaps Madam Hooch who continued to supervise (a.k.a. sleep through) each of their practices.

When practice was finally over, Harry handed Wood the snitch then handed his broom to Ron. His ginger friend was nearly vibrating with excitement. He shot into the air screaming like a maniac. He zipped, he zagged, he pulled up the zipper. He flew like he'd only ever dreamed of flying.

Harry was happy. He'd been able to find a good to ease the bad. And the good only kept on coming.

The stands roared with anticipation and the Firebolt hummed in his hand. He was ready. He was psyched.

"They don't stand a chance," said Fred.

"Let's show 'em what Gryffindor can do," said George.

"It's time," said Wood. "Let's go."

Marching onto the field he felt his spirit rise even before he'd mounted the broom. The day was bright and clear, not a cloud or dementor in sight. At last, things were finally looking up.


	38. Chapter 38

Card the moon

Chapter 38 – Are you Sirius

…

Victory is sweet.

"GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!"

Like a fine wine, only in moderation. Too much and one begins to act foolishly.

"WHOOOOOOOO!"

The effects are especially pronounced in those that relapse after a long, painful dry spell.

The party dragged on much too long. Past the point of excessive, past the point of 'okay, that's enough', right up to the point where McGonagall stormed in and told them to go to bed.

With the thrill yanked out, they fell quickly into slumber. Harry in particular, who was not a skilled sleeper, found his eyes drooping before he was even under the covers.

They shot back open when the screaming started.

Panicked and mostly blind, he fumbled for his glasses. The screaming was coming from Ron's bed, his friend sitting bolt upright, freckles popping against sheet white skin.

"RON! What's the matter!"

Ron looked at Harry like someone who'd just seen his own tombstone, "Was him! Standing over me! With a knife!"

"Who?" asked Dean

Harry didn't need to ask, he knew before the words left his friends mouth, "Sirius Black."

The other boys looked at each other in fear and confusion but Harry was out of his bed, wand in hand and racing down the steps before any of them could blink

The common room was a mess, but it was an empty mess when he arrived. It filled up quickly, first Ron, their roommates, then all the rest of Gryffindor.

Percy tried to come in and bustle everyone back to bed, but he nearly choked when Ron said the name.

"You—you must have imagined it," he tried to dismiss.

"I know what I saw!"

But he was the only one, and apart from Harry, no one wanted to believe him. No one wanted to believe a crazed murderer had gotten into their nice safe tower. Especially not McGonagall when she turned up a moment later and tried to dismiss the claim like Percy.

"How could he have possibly gotten in?"

"Ask him," said Ron, pointing at the portrait hole that 'protected' them.

More people than was necessary followed McGonagall into the hall to speak with Sir Cadogan. It did not go as she hoped.

"Why yes ma'am, he just came back out barely a moment ago."

McGonagall was stunned, "Why did you let him in."

"He had the password ma'am, all of them, written down on a piece of paper."

"Who would be fool enough to write down the passwords and then lose them."

A squeak from the audience presented itself as a shaking, terrified, Neville Longbottom.

…

"Tell it again Ron."

Even more than Harry, Ron had become a sensation overnight. In much the same way, Neville had become a near pariah. Harry held no grudge against Ron for his sudden popularity and felt no small amount of sympathy for Neville. It was stupid what he'd done, sure, but he felt McGonagall was going a bit overboard, as was everyone else.

Sir Cadogan had been fired and the Fat Lady was back, but not without a security troll guard at the door. It was interesting for Harry, who had something of a history with trolls.

They were professional though, they stood by the portrait and looked menacing without actually touching anyone, even poor Neville who was not allowed to know the new password and had to wait for someone else to come and open the portrait for him.

That really was cruel and unusual, especially given how the trolls like to leer at him.

Days of this lead up to the next Hogsmeade weekend, and Ron couldn't have been more excited.

"You'll be able to sneak down and meet us in Honeydukes, just like last time."

"I don't think I'll be going," Hermione said suddenly. "And I don't think Harry should either."

"You hear something Harry," Ron said.

For all his popularity and the good mood it put him in, he was still not forgiving Hermione. He'd no proof of his accusation but it didn't matter, not in his mind, and Harry had no way to correct him without revealing secrets he wasn't sure he should. He hated secrets.

"You know, I probably shouldn't."

"Aw come on Harry, know one'll know. She won't tell," he said very pointedly.

"I might," she shot back at his scowling face.

"It's not that," he said, "I just got some things I need to do here."

It was entirely true, though Ron chose to see it as him not wanting to risk Hermione tattling, which wasn't entirely wrong.

He and Hermione were on speaking terms, as long as Ron wasn't around, but he didn't doubt she would tell on him. He hated it, but he had to acknowledge in this instance she was probably right. It was a minor detail however, not really the reason he was staying.

He'd been mulling some things ever since Black got into the tower. And Luna's 'reassurance' was still haunting him, now more openly, moaning, groaning, and rattling the chains right over his head.

There was so much going on, before the attack he'd nearly forgotten about Black for a while. Youma were an ever-present threat, always lurking somewhere, and Clow cards had a habit of popping up in the strangest places when you least expected it.

It was exciting, no doubt about that. But it was also hectic. He was beginning to get some idea of what Hermione must be feeling with her absurd workload. The difference of course is he hadn't intentionally brought this on himself, though that was little comfort.

Everything was coming at him at once and he just couldn't seem to keep track of it anymore. He was befuddled, confused, and to top it all off he was caught between his feuding friends. The rest he could have dealt with if not for that, and it didn't matter what he did, someone wasn't going to be happy. Him most likely.

He needed advice, an outside opinion. He also needed to find some way to protect himself while he was sleeping, even just something to wake him up if someone approached his bed. He wasn't going to find that at Honeydukes.

He needed to find Luna, not the cat.

She'd been surprisingly scarce since he'd seen her chasing after things on fire, and he'd not had a chance to talk to her since before Christmas. Time he changed that. And not just because he needed her advice.

He wasn't sure exactly how he felt about the quirky big eyed blonde, but he knew he liked her. She was a friend, and currently the only one that wasn't fighting with one of the others. He needed to find her, and hopefully, there wouldn't be anything on fire.


	39. Chapter 39

Card the moon

Chapter 39 – The end is nearing

…

Nothing was on fire; she'd already caught that one. It was sand this time, three of them, buried in sand. They weren't dead, they were still struggling, but they weren't going anywhere either and the SAND card wasn't paying any mind to the wizard and the card captor watching her.

"It's rather worrisome," said Luna. "They're traveling in packs now. This is the fourth bunch I've come across since I got back."

"Doesn't seem to be doing them much good," said Harry.

"It really doesn't, does it," said Luna, looking at him with a gentle smile. "Hullo Harry."

"Hullo Luna."

He'd only just found her, so it wasn't odd she'd say 'Hullo', even if the conversation was already underway. Order of operations wasn't so important to a girl like Luna.

"How was your break?"

"Hmm, a bit rough in places. Hermione found out; she wasn't happy."

"She doesn't seem like she's been happy all year," the blonde observed. "I hope she cheers up."

"She mostly got over that bit."

"Well that's good… did you get my present?"

Harry grinned at the eagerness she tried to hide, "Yes I did."

She nodded, and nodded, and looked expectant, and nodded, "Did you like it?"

"I'm kinda curious how you got a full set of cloths into that watch; also, how you knew my exact size."

"Mm, magic."

Of course.

"Speaking of magic," he said, fishing in his pocket, "I picked up couple more of your strays."

SNOW, which had attempted to kill him, and POWER who he'd found lifting heavy things and turning them upside down, just because she could.

"I think having everyone back in the castle has riled them up," said Luna.

"Really?" he hadn't noticed much difference. "Since we're on the subject, just how many more are there to catch."

"Well, let me see."

It was an experience, watching Luna think. Only about half of it was done in her head, the other half was done in her eyes, with her lips, but not her vocal cords; with her fingers, and when that wasn't enough she slipped off a shoe and used her toes. Conclusion?

"I don't know."

And yet he was only mildly annoyed, it faded quickly.

"Would Squeaky know?"

"He might," she thought aloud, "but I don't think he likes being called Squeaky."

"How can you tell?"

"He yells at you every time you call him Squeaky."

Another thing about conversations with Luna, redundant questions were never actually redundant.

"And here I thought he was just naturally lou—hold on a sec."

Whipping out his wand he threw a blaster at a nearby patch of wall. The wall dodged, but not quick enough to avoid the follow up.

"I do hate eavesdroppers," said Harry.

"The eaves have enough trouble staying up as it is," agreed Luna.

"Why you," growled the masonric youma, "I'm gonna—hey, wait a minute. No. No! NOOOOOOO!" the youma wailed as several tons of sand poured down on its head.

"Oh my, what a mess," said Luna.

"We should probably take care of this lot before it gets out of hand," said Harry.

One youma, Clow card round up later.

"And that, is that."

"Is it?"

"Yes it is."

"Oh."

There was still sand on the floor, but not several tons, just enough to make Argus Filch spitting mad when he found it.

"We should probably go."

The two strolled the empty halls, quietly chatting. This was one of the reasons he wanted to talk to Luna. For all her oddities, he never felt like she expected anything, except when she looked at him expectantly. Ron always expected you to agree with him, and Hermione expected you to be either as smart as her or so dumb as to defy reason, depending on her mood.

With Luna there was no expectation, she just took everything as it was, or at least as she thought it was. He was pretty sure the ivy wasn't really full of tiny creatures that got into your head and made it all fuzzy—pretty sure. Still a fun word to say, Nargles.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"When—when I've caught all the Clow cards, will you—will you still want to talk to me?"

"What?" he hadn't been expecting that. They'd been discussing something called a Crumple Horned Snorkak.

"When this is all done, when we don't 'have to' cross paths like this, will you still want to?"

"Of course," he said, not needing to see the look in her eyes to know the answer to that question. "I didn't come looking for you today because I had to. I wanted to."

"Why did you want to?"

"Because I wanted to see you," seemed perfectly obvious to him, though not to her.

"But why?"

He sensed there was something deeper to the question than just mere words. He saw without looking, something familiar, a want, a need, something so strongly desired yet held just out of reach for so long it hurt to even think you might get it.

"Because you're my friend."

She flinched. He was right.

"Don't you have any friends?" he asked, afraid what she might say but too Gryffindor stupid to let that stop him.

"Not since I was little."

So she had, "What happened."

"We were playing house, we did that whenever she came over, and, I wondered if, just once, I could marry Harry Potter."

This time Harry flinched, "You don't say."

Luna giggled at his discomfort, looking up with damp eyes, "You'd be surprised how many little girls wanted to marry Harry Potter."

"I probably would," which only made it worse.

"She didn't want to talk to me after that."

"Not much of a friend," said Harry, unable to not think of Ron when he said it.

"We were little then. I see her sometimes, but I don't think she sees me. It's intentional."

What a brat. And what a minefield. Thrown away as a friend over something so stupid, and then at Hogwarts. He'd heard what people said about her. It was hard not to when you knew what to listen for. They talked behind her back like he suspected they talked behind his, just without the fear and awe.

"You know," he said, deciding to risk the shaky limb, "I don't think this friend was much of a friend, no matter how young you were."

"She was the only girl who lived nearby."

"Well, you're my friend now, and I promise, if you want to marry Harry Potter, I won't stand in your way."

He'd never seen Luna look shocked; it was a very honest expression, so easily melting into an honest smile, "Really?"

Harry smiled back, "Promise."

It was a silly thing to say, and they both laughed, then Luna cried and laughed. Harry didn't know what to do so he tried rubbing the tears away and somehow that led to her face in his shirt and her arms wrapped around him. Gently, he put his arms around her.

Well now what?

"I'm sorry," she said, "I was leaking for a moment."

"Should I get you a cork?"

He was on a roll today.

They sat down on a nearby ledge, leaning against each other. They didn't say anything, but the silence was surprisingly vocal in what was not said, but still understood.

"You know, I feel bad I didn't get you anything for Christmas," said Harry.

There was a pause, "There's, something, you could give me now."

She gestured him in close, curiously he followed. It happened so fast he didn't quite know what it was at first. It was the night in the hospital wing all over again, but worse, or better depending on how you look at it. He wasn't really sure how to look at it, the world had gone spinning off its axis when the soft pink lips were pressed against his own.

Wires were crossed, uncrossed, braided into pretzels. Whole new pathways were forcibly opened in his brain as sensations assaulted his senses and things creeping in the deep screamed to be released.

"Happy Christmas."

As with time in the hospital wing, he was left alone, dumbfounded by what had just been done. The world continued spinning out of control as he tried to understand what he was feeling. North landed somewhere West of South when things finally slowed down, and he'd yet gotten his feet back properly on the ground when they were forcibly nailed down by a dark, oily voice.

"Now what do we have here?"

The ultimate rain on any parade, "Snape."

...

Last chapter till December. NaNoWriMo is just around the corner. This years fic, Your a Protagonist Harry, be sure to check it out. And don't miss my first full length original, over on FictionPress, Squeak. Hope to see you all there.


	40. Chapter 40

Card the moon

Chapter 40 – Background noise

…

"Watch where you're going Malfoy!"

"Oops! Didn't see ya there Potter."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

There was only one thing worse than a Slytherin, a bunch of Slytherin.

"Mind your distance Greengrass."

"It's a free hall Weasley, I'll walk where I want."

And the only thing worse than a bunch of Slytherin was a bunch of Slytherin afraid of losing.

"I see you hiding there. Don't even think about it."

Slytherin were bad losers, this was no revelation to anyone who'd spent even a few weeks living in Hogwarts. So it should have come as no surprise, with Gryffindor's victory over Ravenclaw and the scores being what they were, Slytherin was very afraid of losing the next Quidditch match, very afraid indeed. So afraid they were taking every opportunity to sabotage the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but mostly Harry.

They weren't subtle about it either. Running into him in the halls, tripping him, shoving him, it was like Dudley had come to Hogwarts. It got so bad Harry hardly went anywhere without an escort, though that didn't stop them trying, just slowed them down a bit.

"I really just cannot believe," Luna exclaimed one evening while Harry was training. "All this for some silly little game."

"I take it you weren't a sports fan back in the day," Harry commented idly while maintaining concentration on what he was doing.

"No, and what does that have to do with anything?" said the cat.

Harry allowed himself a grin, gently lowering the whittled rod into the corner with the others. "It's not important."

He hated the constant attacks as much as anyone, but he didn't have to think about why they were doing it. He felt just as strongly about winning as they did, the only difference was Gryffindor had an actual moral compass leading it; her name was Minerva McGonagall, and she did not stand for that sort of behavior.

He could only imagine what they'd be like if their house were headed by a Snape. Small wonder Slytherin wasn't worse.

"That's twelve of those now, you think it's enough?"

"Have to be for now," he said. "Pretty sure our hour is almost up."

TIME had made training a whole different experience for Harry and Luna. Preparing ahead, they could have an entire hour in an instant. It made getting caught far less likely and they didn't have to worry so much about people getting suspicious. The map had made that easier too till he'd lost it.

He felt like an idiot for letting Snape get to him that day with the other Luna, yet another thing he really needed to work on. The man knew how to push Harry's buttons, and Harry had a hard time holding his tongue; it's what had gotten him dragged down to Snape's office, his pockets emptied, his map revealed.

It was only lucky Snape had decided to call Lupin to look at the map, otherwise it would have been destroyed then and there, and he wasn't sure he could have faced the twins knowing that. Learning it was created by Sirius Black had almost been worth Lupin's ire.

It was hard not to just tell him. The man was clearly concerned with Harry's safety, what would he think if he really knew what Harry had been up to all semester. Would he be impressed, upset, unable to believe?

He put it out of his mind. Some things just were not worth wondering about since they would absolutely never happen, not if he had anything to say about it.

There was a slight prick when time started up again, and Harry took his dozen small canes and placed them in the empty trunk he was using to store them. "That makes thirty-three total."

"I think you've got this carving spell down. Ready to move on to the next part?"

"I suppose so," said Harry. "If I can make it work, finally be getting something out of that cane."

He wasn't carving replicas of his cane just to master the carving spell, which was from the same school of spells as his cutter, it was all part of a project he was working on to up the combat potential of his cane. His most advanced endeavor to date.

His first enchantment.

He was both excited and nervous at the same time.

"I'll check the hall, follow when you hear me call."

Luna was acting scout, since Harry was being 'guarded' from Slytherin any youma related work had to be done when everyone was asleep. Everyone not including Filch.

"Dobby." The elf appeared with a silent pop. "We're done for the night. Can you put that back?"

The elf nodded and vanished with his trunk of timber. Dobby, much like the map, had been a godsend. Unlike the map, he had no intention of losing his elf friend.

A plaintive 'meow' from the hall signaled all was clear and he went in search of the cat. She was waiting at the foot of a suit of armor. Harry eyed it suspiciously.

"It's not a youma," the cat assured him.

'It' may not be, but far too many of them had been this year. They'd also been completely innocuous pieces of wall which made just walking through Hogwarts a bit unnerving. It had allowed him to develop something of a sense for their unique presence, which was good since he lacked the immunity the sailor scouts had to being drained.

That first time had been a fluke; he'd just nothing for the youma to drain.

"I know this will sound like a stupid question but, just how much longer will we need to do this. I mean, how much longer will they be satisfied with this 'discretion'," discretion being relative of late.

"I wish I knew," said the cat. "I was never trained for this—this sort of guerilla warfare. I was never trained for regular warfare either, it was never my job to fight, just advise."

"This from the cat that attacked a disguised youma to save a poor defenseless Hermione," he said with a grin.

"She told you about that did she?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, well, basic self-defense was required for all royal attendants. We weren't technically at war with the Earth, but we never dismissed the possibility, and we were in their orbit."

"And now, ten thousand years later, it continues. It's an impressive grudge."

"Sort of makes that silliness between Gryffindor and Slytherin seem rather juvenile in comparison."

Well, when she put it like that, "I'll just be glad when this game is over. Win or lose."

The cat scoffed, "But you'll still try and win though."

"Duh!"

"Wouldn't it just be easier to let them win?"

"Sure, but then we'd never hear the end of it. And after that stunt Malfoy and his cronies pulled at the Ravenclaw game, there's no way I'm letting them walk away from this with the cup." He paused a moment to release the tension he'd built up during his rant. "Just wish we could get it over with already."

"The waiting is always the worst part," said Luna sagely.

"Feels like it," he said, "or it may just be that time of year."

Usually, something was building to a peak by this point, at least in his experience. The basilisk the previous year was an excellent example. All the little clues about the Philosophers stone and Quirrell's attempts to steal it being another. And now there was the whole thing with Sirius Black, which would have felt more pressing if there weren't also youma skulking in every hall. Also…

"Do you hear something?"

Both tilted their heads just so, "It sounds like, sloshing," said Luna.

"Is it getting louder?"

It was. The great wave of bubbles swept past them in the intersecting hall, a youma carried helplessly along squealed its distress.

"Only one?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Help!"

"NOOOOO!"

"Yaaargh!"

"That's better." They were roving in packs now. It would have been weird if there was only one.

"Weeeeeeeeeeee!"

"And there she goes," the cat observed, as the Card captor slid along in their wake.

"At least she's having fun," Harry said with an irresistible grin. "Spose we ought to follow them, deal with those youma."

"Oh, is that the only reason?" the cat teased with a knowing grin; he knew it was knowing because he'd gotten it enough from Professor Lupin and Professor Jade; prats.

"No, no it isn't."


End file.
